


Notoriously False

by QueerSherlockian (Anglophile_Fiend)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Breathplay, Bruises, Cecil is Mostly Human, Frottage, Gay Sex, Human Echolocation, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Masturbation, Mystery, No Tentacles, Oral Sex, Romance, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Spoilers, quotes from the podcast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 32,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglophile_Fiend/pseuds/QueerSherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by H.P. Lovecraft's "The Colour Out of Space" and WTNV cannon.<br/>Carlos is a brilliant scientist who's come to study the bizarre occurrences in the town of Night Vale. He winds up caught in a grand mystery with glowing meteorites, kinky sex, and and his own complicated love story with Night Vale's most prominent Radio Host Cecil Palmer; who is actually a NV Secret Police undercover officer.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day After

**Author's Note:**

> This began as an attempt to ‘flesh out’ the storyline of WTNV. So, with many artistic liberties, this tale loosely follows the plot; using their characters, and actual dialogue from the podcast.  
> I'm open to all comments and criticism.
> 
> With many thanks, to the hours of work spent transcribing episodes by http://cecilspeaks.tumblr.com/
> 
> And to the amazeballz Dom the Beta. you can find them over at http://epicene-ster.tumblr.com/

Yesterday, dear listeners, the day which our little burg will always fondly remember as the day perfect Carlos came to town, was also the day a giant meteorite landed out at John Peters. You know, the farmer? The rock is said to be larger than a horse, but smaller than a basilisk. It was also reported that the meteorite is still glowing with the white-hot heat of a low mass star- guess that means no invisible corn for sale at the Night Vale Farmers Market this season, folks!

But fret not my fellow citizens! We’ve sent intern Kiernan to the farm to find out just exactly how hot this rock is burning. However, we have yet to hear back from her... Well, other than this text she sent 8 hours ago, which reads “My feet have melted into the pavement send helllllll” with 38 extra L’s. I don’t know what they mean, but I’m sure they’re important. More on this later.

But first, the weather:

“I've never seen a diamond in the flesh

I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies

And I'm not proud of my address,

In the torn-up town, no post code envy”

**********

“Cecil! Why are you back in the studio? I told you yesterday that you all needed to evacuate!”

 

“Oh Carlos, you are so sweet, but I asked Station Management if we should leave… Well I didn’t so much ask as cower near their door, but I’m sure it was fine. If it wasn’t- they would’ve read my mind, blood would’ve run out of my ears and I’d just _know_.”

 

“Alright...well, I’m not calling for personal reasons. Also, it’s entirely possible that my equipment had not been properly calibrated for this...unique environment when testing yesterday.

 

“Mmm, that’s so _totally_ _interesting_ about your science boxes with all those lights and sounds and whatnot! Are you doing some experiments today?”

 

“Well, my team still has quite a bit of organizing and unpacking to do, but yes.

So, quick question Cecil: the police have called to ask that I open my curtains and speak louder when talking to others, is that aberrant?”

 

“Oh, you silly man, you know it’s just so they can monitor everything you say and do! Haha, you are such a comedian Carlos! So hilarious!

Anyway, are there any science-y things you want me to report on air?”

 

“Hmm, sure. I saw that meteorite crash last night, so I’m going with my team to personally check it out. Hopefully all the equipment will be in working order this time.

I’ll let you know if we find anything, so that you can inform your listeners.”

 

“Excellent, thank you Carlos! You are so kind and thoughtful, and I love the way your hair catches small breezes and flutters like a million muted moths.”

 

“Oh! Alright! I...I must go.....bye, Cecil.”

  
“Goodbye Carlos, call me!”

 

******

 _Damn it all! The Secret Police have already been contacting Carlos, this is not good,_ Cecil thought as he paced up and down the plush carpeted floors of the radio stations only studio.

 

_Arrgh, get a hold of yourself, man; you work for THEM, you cannot be getting involved with a civilian- no matter how perfect his teeth are, and hell they are fucking perfect._

 

 

A spark of arousal curled inside his belly as he ran a hand over the shaved sides of his white-blonde hair, careful not to touch the bouffant on top. _Every piece and angle of Carlos is pure beauty,_ he mused, now massaging his thin but heavily-tattooed neck which tensed and flexed underneath the rough push of his fingers.

 

As they usually did when Cecil was agitated (or in this case, aroused), his bio-luminescent tattoos emanated a soft glow, the shapes and whirls of ink growing brighter on his skin as his thoughts turned lustful. _Beautiful Carlos, how I’d love to hold that strong jaw in my hands and trace those lips with my own._

 

 _Whoa Cecil, hold up, you cannot be in love with some guy you met yesterday_ , he mentally chided himself, as he suddenly stopped moving and the glowing ceased.

 

He stood ramrod straight, smoothed down the lapels of his dove gray corduroy jacket, tilted his narrow chin high, and smiled a large fake grin.

 

 _I just have to keep it light, appearing to all the world like the friendly-little-Cecil-who-wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly_. He dropped to perch on his chair before the microphone.

 

“Oh Carlos, Carlos, Carlooooos,” he babbled with a sigh.

 

 _He doesn’t need to get dragged down into your world of death and destruction! Everyone you love dies, you know this; don’t risk it with someone that perfect,_ he concluded.

 

_I can’t have him carted off by my superiors, or worse- the City Council! Oh hell, he’s got to stay off their radar!_

 

 _No matter_ , he thought assuredly, _I’m a professional, this is my undercover op and I will perform exactly as trained, keeping my appearance of fluffy ineptitude._

 _Carlos won’t catch on, and then he’ll be safe. That’s what matters: that Perfect-Carlos - NO,_ he corrected, _.that Scientist-Carlos stays safe._...

 

 _Shit, this is going to be fucking impossible._ A deep frown formed on his pale pink lips.

 

Even just the thought of Carlos made his mouth water. _That white lab coat contrasting with his tawny skin of a yet-unknown blend of racial heritage... Mmmm!_ All he knew for certain was that when those dark brown eyes with honey-colored flecks studied him yesterday, Cecil felt his pulse race and his cock twitch.

 

Realizing he was letting his thoughts tread dangerous ground, he shook his head as if to clear the illicit thoughts, located and replaced his wire-rimmed glasses over his silvery-purple eyes, and picked up the cell phone again.

 

 _Concentrate!_ he further berated himself.

_Hmmm, I had better give Stephanie a call and see how things are progressing... not just because Carlos is going down there, but because it’s my job!_

 

“I am focused on the job and _only_ the job,” he said aloud to the empty room, and he hoped that anyone listening would be convinced. He sure as hell wasn’t.

*********

 

“LEAVING? What do you mean you’re leaving?,” Carlos screeched at his fellow scientists.

 

The four men scuttled around quickly and shoved suitcases and boxes inelegantly into an unmarked white van.

 

“This place is just _wrong_ , doctor! We aren’t safe, and we wanna go home- while we still can,” said one of the men as he scooted past Carlos with a box.

 

“But...but...we came here _because_ it was scientifically extraordinary AND downright bizarre- it’s all about the SCIENCE, gents- the SCIENCE, pure and simple!” Carlos exclaimed, gesturing wildly with dark skinned hands. “Right now there’s a fiery-hot meteorite just a couple miles from here; aren’t you dying to study it?”

 

“Now you’re just making our point for us,” a portly man muttered.

 

Ignoring the intrusion, Carlos continued ranting, “We’ve signed on to stay for two years!” His white lab coat billowed in the dusty wind that ran down Night Vale’s streets as he stared in disbelief. “Do you know how difficult it was for me to get a grant for a TWO year contract- for ALL of us?”

 

“Sorry sir,” replied one of the other scientists while edging past him, skittish eyes surveying the room, “but we aren’t willing to _die_ for science, and this town is more than just bizarre- it’s _dangerous!_ ”

 

“Keep the money Carlos, you stay and keep it all. Hell, we’re not even taking the equipment,” blurted another from inside the van.

 

A tall, willowy scientist stopped mid-stride. “Carlos, come with us,” he entreated, shifting the obviously very heavy suitcase to his hip.

 

Carlos gave him a thoughtful glance, but shook his head.

 

“Alright, but with all due respect, doctor- there is no way in hell WE are staying another moment in this godforsaken hellhole!” The young scientist punctuated his point by lugging the suitcase past Carlos and shoving it into the cargo hold with more force than necessary.

.

Carlos closed his eyes while pulling off his black plastic glasses and rubbing the bridge of his hawkish nose with a squint that was clearly a force of habit.

Sucking in what he hoped would be a calming breath, he stammered shakily, “Sssso... so that’s it then, you, we... we have all made our decisions...” He stopped the unconscious gesture, opened his eyes and replaced the large glasses. “You know what, that’s fine- I can do this alone, no problem.”

He looked up with a twisted grin

“Just don’t expect to be listed as contributors on my Nobel Prize winning report!” he challenged, shoving his hands into the lab coat and jutting out his strong jaw.

 

“Sure, Car, we get it. Sorry, really, we are,” said the youngest researcher, who had yet to climb in with the others.

 

He touched a hand to Carlos’ broad shoulder affectionately, rubbing his thumb in small circles...

 

“We really want you to come with us,” he confessed, “but I know how you are when you make up your mind. You’re nothing if not resolute.”

 

Carlos turned to the young man with a tight grin that did not spread up to his hooded eyes, a motion uncharacteristic to the normally pleasant scientist.

 

“You know how much this means to me Vic,” he admitted.

 

“I know Car, listen, I’m so sorry, but yesterday was the worst day of our collective lives and we won’t spend another second longer here than we have to,” his voice now a shaky murmur. “Please come with us.” He gave Carlos a moist-eyed plea.

 

“I can’t Vic, this is everything I’ve worked towards- the pinnacle of my career, make or break time, and I won’t give up so easily. Leave if you must, but I’m staying.”

 

Cutting off eye contact and nodding a shaggy brown head, Vic choked out, “I know. I get it. Goodbye, Car.”

 

Staring mournfully, Carlos watched as the last of his team piled in without him.

 

With a perfunctory wave out the passenger window, the van pulled away from the curb and before he could even lift a hand in reply, it was gone.

 

He turned on his heel and strode into the rented lab, which had initially been full of chatter and bustle. It was now eerily quiet. Only then did it truly begin to sink in that he was alone.

 

 _Oh God,_ he despaired, _ALONE? What am I going to do_? _How the hell am I supposed to work solo in this terrifying town?_ Experiments flashed through his mind.

 

He slid down the odd polka-dot-painted wall onto the cold concrete floor and felt a heavy weight seep into his bones. A deluge of questions flooded through his agile mind as he collapsed, his head drooping, his fingers running through the gray swaths of his shoulder length hair.

 

He muttered a curse to the empty room, then paused remembering his advisor Fink’s constant refrain, “ A scientist is self-reliant. It’s the first thing a scientist is.”

 

Carlos' hands ended their hair tousling and folded neatly in the lap of his tan khakis. _I can do this._

 

Out of nowhere a beautiful face popped into his mind. _Hmm, Cecil, the golden-voiced speaker for Night Vale, maybe he could be helpful?_


	2. Quick Queries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Texts:Cecil in italic, Carlos in bold

Carlos was woken by a vibration. He sat up sharply, breath catching in his lungs, pupils dilating from trying to see in the pitch black room. Now fully conscious, he registered the source of the vibration and snatched his cell phone from the bedside table.

“Incoming message from Cecil.”

 

_What’s the moon?_

 

**What?**

 

_The moon, what is it? I don’t think it’s looking at me._

 

**Cecil the moon is a rock that reflects the sun, it can’t LOOK at you**

**Geez, it’s 3 am. I’m going back to sleep**

 

_You should come by the station today and tell me more about the moon._

 

**Cecil, I gave you this number for scientific emergencies.**

 

_I love to hear you talk about science._

 

**Thank you.**

**Tomorrow I’m monitoring the meteorite again in Farmer Peters' field, but am having difficulty getting a solid read after that 9.7 earthquake that no one felt.**

 

_Yeah just like that_

 

**I had better go to sleep now, Cecil. I need at least 7 hours of rest to be at optimal performance.**

 

_Are you wearing your lab coat?_

_Do you think the moon will kill us all?_

 

**Sleeping now.**

**Don’t worry about the moon, Cecil. It’s quite far away.**

 

_You are so kind Carlos._

_And thoughtful._

_beautiful_

_Oops, didn’t mean to send that last one_

_Not that you’re not beautiful, you are!_

_Carlos?_

_Oh, Carloooos_

_You still there?_

_Sleeping?_

_OK, I guess you are really asleep._

_Goodnight & pleasant dreams_


	3. The Field of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Txt Carlos in bold, Cecil in italics
> 
> Mystery-then passion...

_Two weeks_ , Carlos nervously fretted as he pulled his car up to a charred farm, glancing at the abundant data he had collected about the meteorite in Farmer Peters' field.

 

_How could this rock be burning with such intense heat for TWO WHOLE WEEKS? It just doesn’t make any sense, but then not much in this town is what it seems._

 

Unfolding his compact but sturdy frame out of the car, Carlos propped the laptop up onto the trunk of the sporty coupe and rolled up the sleeves of his lab coat and shirt. He surveyed the monstrosity smack dab in the middle of what was once some sort of corn field. Not that there was anything left of it; the entire field had been reduced to ashes. Somehow though, the house which sat about twenty yards away was completely untouched by the heat.

 

Carlos had run a full set of tests on the house and found nothing remarkable about it, not even any especially flame-retardant materials, and yet there it was, just sixty feet away from a burning space rock almost as tall as the two-story house itself.

 

It wasn't for lack of trying, but Carlos couldn’t get any closer to the rock than the front porch of the house. He would have loved to take samples, but he didn't have the necessary equipment and couldn't get anything delivered. He had tried going through the local post office, but it was boarded up, and no other shipping companies would deliver. _How can I get more data? Maybe..._

 

“Hey There Dr. Carlos,” a voice interrupted his musing.

 

“Why, hello Mr. Peters! And I’ve told you before- you can just call me Carlos” he corrected.

 

“Oh right, and you can still call me John” Farmer Peters said, winking at the bespectacled scientist.

 

“Of course...apologies...uh, are you and the rest of the family ready for data collection yet?” he stammered, gliding a critical eye over the short and notably plump farmer.

 

“Not yet Carlos, my wife, Leticia is still gearing up for the PTA meeting, and the kids are busy helping her. Maybe in a couple days when that’s over,” he said, toeing the gravel underfoot nervously.

 

“Yes, right, well as soon as possible, I need to get the interviews done. How about you, are you available right now?” Carlos asked, hands hovering over his keyboard ready to take notes.

 

“Err, no sorry, it’s election season and I have to try and get some peaches harvested- I haven’t gotten any yet, but maybe this is my year!” he punctuated the statement with a low fist in the air.

 

Carlos let loose a weighty sigh. “Well...okay, I- I don’t think your family is in danger, not any more so than anyone else in this town... but you’ve been putting me off for weeks now! I am missing _valuable data_ John!” snapped Carlos.

 

The farmer gaped openly at the scientist.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Carlos removed his black frames. “Sorry... really, I just... I’m just so incredibly _frustrated,_ but I really shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” He rubbed his nose in that same absent-minded manner he so often did. “Please, forgive me. I’ll come back in a few days, alright?”

 

“Excellent!” John agreed, turned a heel, and without a goodbye strode back towards the house.

 

Carlos, simmering in silence, watched him walk away without protest. _Why is everything so difficult?_ he bristled and let out a sharp exhale. Maybe he DID need Cecil’s help after all. He had previously been laboring under the impression that he could get through to these townspeople on his own, but maddeningly, they had shut him out at every attempt.

 

Turning to gaze at the giant burning ball for one final moment, he ascertained there was nothing new to record, determinedly replaced his glasses, shut the laptop, and pulled out his cell phone.

 

**I need to see you**

 

He climbed into the car to escape the burning oppressive heat of the desert sun, and cranked up the AC while waiting for the phone to chime. Moments later he was rewarded with a text.

 

_Really?!?!!! Okay can you meet me at the station?_

 

**Be right there.**

 

***********

 

Cecil stewed in his own thoughts for the entire time it took Carlos to drive over, mulling over how to let Carlos know he was interested while simultaneously keeping the brass (who were most likely listening to EVERYTHING) at NVSP in the dark. Currently, they thought the lighthearted obsession he had cultivated during his on-air broadcasts was a big joke. They could never find out that he was actually in love with Carlos. And Oh GOD was he ever IN LOVE with that man. There was no getting around it... Carlos, Beautiful, Perfect Carlos, had been on his mind for weeks. Cecil had tried to ignore it, to shove it away into a dark corner of his mind, but  in all his dark corners, there was no space for the light that was Carlos. _Shit Shit SHIT!_ Before he could analyze any further, the studio door flung open.

 

“I knocked but no one answered, so I let myself in. I hope that’s okay,” said Carlos hesitantly.

 

“Oh, yes,” Cecil exhaled, “there’s no one here, so I left it unlocked for you.”

 

“Ah, well Cecil, I..uh...” Carlos' mouth suddenly went dry as soon as he looked into Cecil’s bright lavender eyes.

 

Cecil slid up next to him, invading his personal space with his pale and slender form. “What is it Carlos, what did you need?”

Carlos ached to reach out and pin the taller man to the console. “I need your help with something.”

 

“Finally! I’ve been dying to help ever since you came into town! I can help you with anything, Carlos, anything at all.” Cecil's eyes darkened as he brushed an intricately inked hand up Carlos' forearm. The tattoos rapidly changed from a dull black into a glowing blue-green.

 

“Wow, Cecil, your tattoos- they’re bio-luminescent!” he exclaimed.“What are you, part sea-creature?” Carlos chuckled in disbelief.

 

“Haha, no. I’ve been getting them done by Old Woman Josie’s angels for years now. They glow when I’m...turned-on,” Cecil admitted.

 

Gulping loudly, Carlos, bereft of thought, lifted up on his toes, and latched onto Cecil’s neck with his dark mouth.

 

Cecil moaned something unintelligible and wrapped his arms around the shorter and deliciously darker man. “Yes, Carlos, oh yes, _please,_ ” he begged as Carlos sucked and nibbled along his throat.

 

Moving his arms down to grip Cecil’s firm backside, Carlos continued suckling up his jaw, but when Cecil tilted his head to intercept his mouth with his own, Carlos stopped and pulled back.

 

“No, no kissing, Cecil- this is just, I can’t. I can’t get into a...a thing, the work comes first, this can only be physical, if you’re not amenable to that- tell me now and we’ll stop.”

 

Of course Cecil wasn’t okay with it, not in the slightest, but he knew Carlos was right. Kissing was unbearably intimate, and it was best for the both of them if they refrained., so he looked into those golden-flecked orbs and lied through his teeth. “Sure, Carlos, that’s completely fine.”

 

Carlos gave him a devilish grin, and set to work undoing the buttons on Cecil’s tailored Oxford shirt. He kissed each bit of exposed skin, pulled the ends out of his trousers, and quickly dropped to his knees to undo the short fly.

 

“Shit, Carlos, yes!” Cecil exclaimed as he threaded his hands into Carlos’ black locks. He was already incredibly hard and still had all this clothes on. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aroused so quickly.

 

Interrupting his thoughts, Carlos tugged down the now open emerald skinny-jeans until Cecil’s thighs were trapped, gripped them firmly, and then mouthed at his cock through the matching green boxer briefs.

 

“Oh fuck yes, Oh Carlos, unggh... that feels so good! _MORE!_ ” he pleaded, backing up a bit to hold himself steady against the station console.

 

Carlos responded by snaking his cock through the leg hole and mouthing at it’s red and now leaking head. “HOLY SHIT” he abruptly burst out.

 

Cecil looked down worriedly.

 

“You taste like...mmm...” He ducked down for another lick, running his tongue on the underside, swiping up all the pre-come trying to identify the new flavor. “You taste like honeydew melon, Cecil!”

 

“Is that bad?” his face now a full of dread.

 

“No, God no, it’s amazing, frankly... delicious!” Wasting no more time, he pulled down Cecil’s briefs and attempted to swallow his cock, gagging a bit, but huffing little breaths through his nose.

 

All Cecil could do was moan as the world suddenly got very narrow, and all he could sense was Carlos, Carlos and his mouth, Carlos and his strong hands gripping his ass. A delightful pleasure zinged through his entire body. His tattoos were giving off an incredible amount of light now, so much so that he thought he might be melting.

 

Then it all whited out, and he was coming in hot spurts down Carlos’ throat, Carlos' tongue still lavishing his cock with steady strokes until he was sucked completely dry.

 

He folded in half over the flawless ebony head, panting, and Carlos gently guided him to the plush carpeted floor while he caught his breath and kicked off the rest of his clothes.

 

“That was amazing, Oh Carlos, you are just perfect!” Cecil eulogized in between gasps, a soft glow emanating from the hundreds of tattooed lines on his body.

 

The scientist just smiled widely, showing off those perfect teeth of his and pulled Cecil into his chest, encircling his glorious nakedness with strong, muscular arms.

 

Finally catching his breath, Cecil realized some reciprocation could be in order, and if the rock-hard flesh between their stomachs was any clue, it would be welcomed.

 

Cecil pulled away from him, “Hey, mister- no fair that I’m completely bereft of clothing, and you have all of yours!”

 

“You’re entirely correct Cecil, let me remedy that situation,” Carlos chuckled, quickly disrobing and pulling the secret-agent-cum-radio-host back down with him. He ran an appraising hand over the tattoos and marveled at the marked skin that covered almost all of Cecil’s body.

 

“You are perfect.” he beamed at the man who was not tall or short, thin or fat.

 

Cecil then stretched out an alarmingly long pink tongue over a dark brown nipple and was rewarded with a huff of surprise from Carlos.

 

“Okay?” he questioned.

 

“More than,” Carlos murmured as he closed his eyes and threw back his head.

 

Cecil began sucking on the nub, which caused Carlos to close his eyes and moan approvingly. He gave it a bite and Carlos’ hips bucked up.

 

“Yes, Cecil, mmmm,” was all the incentive he needed as he worked his way over to the other nipple, then bit his way down to curly black fur that surrounded a frankly _impressively_ large brown cock and licked at the sensitive head softly. He felt Carlos' cock twitch, and he ran his tongue up and down the shaft, coating it in slick saliva. Grasping the base with one hand and reaching up to pinch a nipple with the other, he began to suck.

 

“Fuck, yeah, oh fuuuuuck,” was all the brilliant scientist seemed capable of saying as Cecil hollowed out his cheeks and deftly feathered his tongue on the underside of the now-throbbing cock.

 

Carlos opened his lovely brown eyes with pupils blown out in lust, and looked down at the sight of gorgeous, pale Cecil whose hand had left the nipple and was now gently cupping his balls.

 

“Don’t stop, Cecil, I’m gonna come!” was all the warning he was able to give before he felt the orgasm rip through his muscles down to his bones. It was jarringly hard, and the release had been such a long time coming he couldn't help but shout as he came, “ _Oh God!_ ”

 

Cecil pulled off with an audible ‘pop’ and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he watched Carlos’ chest heaving, gasping for air and struggling to slow his rabbit-paced heartbeat.

 

Once Carlos got his body’s reactions under control, he huffed out, “Get down here, perfection. Yes, you are absolutely perfect,” and tucked the taller man into a loose embrace. 

  
Cecil felt the words pierce through his remaining defenses, _Well, there went any chance I had at an unbroken heart. I would do anything for this man_ , he thought with an audible sigh.

 

“Something wrong?” queried Carlos.

 

“No, no, everything is wonderful,” Cecil continued his lie from earlier.

  
They both stayed for a while wrapped up in their own thoughts- Carlos thinking about how Cecil could help with his next experiment, and Cecil wondering how much brown-nosing he was going to have to endure and paperwork he was going to have to file to make sure the Police Chief thought this was part of his undercover op. _Get in close with the outsider to see what he knows, yes, that would work...for now_.


	4. Lights No Camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos texts Cecil who's On Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Texting  
> Carlos = Bold  
> Cecil = Italics
> 
> strikethroughs are deleted text

**Did you see the bright colorful flickers of light coming from Radon Canyon?**

 

_~~CARLOS Hello Beautiful~~ _

_When?_

 

**This past weekend, Did you?!**

**There were also unintelligible noises...which I think might be coded communication**

**Or signal-jamming**

 

_Nope_

_Stayed home ALL weekend :(_

_I didn’t have ANY plans, like dinner ~~or date-type activities~~_

_Sure wish I had though... :)_

 

**Maybe your listeners did, could you ask them ‘on air’?**

 

_For you -YES!_

 

**Thx**

 

_Of course, I'd do anything to you_

_I mean FOR you_

_But also to you,_

_Would you like to COME to the studio again????_

 

**Can’t**

**I have a very delicate experiment running**

**It may hold crucial details for how to deal with this strange town**

 

_Oh...sure, I understand. You haven't been by in a few weeks... ~~~~_

_~~I think about you all the time~~ _

_You should come by_

 

**Cecil please do this**

**You know my work comes first**

**Plus- I’m scared for the residents of this town**

**Sinister forces may be at play**

 

_I understand_

_I will ~~love~~ Carlos_

_Call me on my house phone sometime ~~~~_

_~~anytime~~ _

 

Notes:

I hope that made sense. I often write a text and then delete it before sending. Maybe I'm alone in that, but I feel like Cecil would second guess himself too....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that made sense. I often write a text and then delete it before sending. Maybe I'm alone in that, but I feel like Cecil would second guess himself too....


	5. I Hear the Secrets That You Keep

Cecil sat in the dark but spacious living room cleaning his standard issue service sword. He couldn’t carry it with him into the radio station, as it would obviously “out” him as a Sheriff's Secret Police member, but he loved to practice with it. Even more than that, he loved to polish the blade. It was a zen-like experience. He meticulously wiped the camellia oil from collar to tip, making sure it reached all the grooves. Once purified, Cecil slid it carefully back into the scabbard and tucked the whole thing away underneath the couch.

 

Cleaning his weapon usually left him with a sense of calm, as if rubbing the oil buffed out the rough spots in his own mind. Today, however, he was feeling incredibly restless and even the repetitive motions of burnishing the sword had not been enough to soothe his troubled thoughts. He had been taught many ways to quiet his hyperactive brain and focus his energies, but right now all he could think about was _Carlos_.

 

Brilliant and beautiful, that new resident had not only settled into Night Vale, but he had taken root in Cecil’s soul. Cecil had never wanted anything so badly as he wanted Carlos. He was picturing naked Carlos- well, naked except for the lab coat- with his incandescent smile, shapely chest with curls of hair you just had to tangle your hands in, and gorgeous cock that just begged to be sucked. _CECIL STOP!_ He admonished himself harshly. Y _ou are a protector of Night Vale, dispensing the information that keeps the citizenry safe... well, most of them...well, some of them_. Still, he knew how important his position was, and wasting all this brain-power on Carlos was not productive.

 

Since cleaning wasn’t working and psychotropic drugs hadn’t been any help, he was down to his final option- practicing his echolocation. He generally hated to manufacture the low hum that located unseen objects, as it always gave him leg cramps, but at least it required his full mental faculties and would dispel all thoughts of that chocolaty-skinned scientist.

 

Cecil loosened his bow tie with both hands, folded himself primly into the ‘criss-cross-peat-moss’ seated position, and held his arms aloft. He took a series of carefully controlled breaths, then closed his mouth, and trilled softly from his throat. The ripples of sound that echoed through the living room were almost visible as they reached out to the grandiose garden and further still, until about a mile away they faded out into the vast desert.

His intricate tattoos were pulsating correspondingly and changing colors- the usual azure hues of bio-luminescence were replaced by flickers of sunset colors, crimson and saffron. In his mind's eye, he saw a picture of everything the sound reverberated off of. He saw the landscape, the houses, the people, the dog park- _shit, not that-_ the cars. It was like looking at a rapidly moving video with film-negative monochrome, and he was finally at peace. He sucked in another deep breath to continue humming his wordless, tuneless tones when...

the phone rang.

His eyes flew open and the atonal notes were silenced as he picked up the receiver. _Damn, why didn’t I ever invest in ‘caller ID_ ’ _?_ he wondered before answering.

“Hellooo?”

“I need to talk to you. This is important.”

“Ummm, okay.”

“Cecil. Cecil, I think time is slowing down in Night Vale.”

“Ohhhh?”

“Last week, seven days, twenty four hours each day, sixty minutes in each hour. That’s ten thousand eighty minutes in a week, right?”

“Uh-huh, go on!”

“Well, I ran some figures, and during that same amount of time in Night Vale, eleven thousand seven hundred eighty-three minutes elapsed everywhere else in the world. That's more than a full day longer! I don't know what's happening!”

“Neat! Uh, do you want to get together sometime, and talk some more about this really fascinating subject?”

“No, but I need you to help get the word out and see if anyone has noticed a massive time-shift.”

“Oh, alright. Sure, Carlos.”

 

Without even so much as a ‘call you later’ Carlos was gone, taking all of Cecil’s peace with him.

Cecil yanked the cord out of the wall. “ _Stoopid_ phone, why do I even _own_ you?” he sneered,  taking his frustration out on the piece of plastic as he threw the receiver and cradle at the opposite wall.

“'Neat!' I said, NEAT. What the hell is wrong with me?” he ranted aloud, knowing that his house was one of the few not actively monitored by the police, thanks to his high ranking in the force. He crumpled to the ground and curled up into a ball, hugging his slender but muscular calves and began rocking on his back.

“Stoopid, stoopid, stoopid! How will I ever get him to love me back if he thinks I’m a moron?” he continued lamenting knowing in the back of his mind that it was better for both of them if Carlos kept his distance. Just then, a brilliant concept floated in his agitated mind, and he knew who he could turn to- _The listeners! They can help me!_

With that decided, Cecil stood up, rearranged his strong limbs and bow tie, and strode out of the house into the oppressive and often deadly heat of downtown Night Vale.

_To the radio station!_

************

During his broadcast, Cecil was rewarded with a series of recordings from the golden-voiced  Carlos that were like velvet to his ears. He was calling about clocks, having visitors, and some other things that Cecil didn’t really listen to- he was just thinking about how in the last one Carlos wanted to know if he was free tomorrow!

Of course he was!

He made a coffee date for the next day and couldn’t stop smiling for rest of this one. Even when Station Management started shrieking, moaning, and gnashing their teeth, it wasn’t enough to wipe the cheeky grin off his face. Cecil’s tattoos were positively glittering as he strode back home at the end of the day only to hear the familiar wub-wub-wub of gravity being defied by the blue helicopter that carried members of the Sheriff’s Secret Police.

 

“Hop in, Sergeant,” a sallow-faced and riot gear-suited man barked out at Cecil.

The smile slid from his face and the tattoos went a deep sapphire. _Shit_. This was not one of the average members of the force; they wore leather balaclavas and capes. This was one of the Chief’s personal men. _Double shit_.

“We’ve got orders to take you down to Playball, sir”.

Cecil gave him a curt head nod and climbed aboard the gleaming vessel.

As the rotors carried them away, he dreamed about his date tomorrow. He hoped he’d make it.

 


	6. Should You Bark at the Sun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer to post than usual, had Con stuff- hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> Cecil meets with the Chief of the Secret Police.

Flying had never made Cecil nervous. A trip to the Night Vale Library carried about the same chance of death, which of course was 50/50, but right now this helicopter ride could not end soon enough. Thoughts whizzed in and out of his mind as he sat there clenching and unclenching his pale fists and intermittently wiping sweaty palms on his khakis.

 

_Oh crap, he knows, he-...No he can’t...What will happen to dear Carlos?...No, no...I can’t..._

 

The worrying would not cease, and Cecil gave up trying to control his mind and allowed the fear to simply wash over him. Finally, he felt a shift in pressure and realized they were landing. He practically leaped out of the vessel and strode with long-legged determination to the ladder that led them off the rooftop helipad and into the sporting-goods-store-turned-not-so-secret-station-house, leaving his escorts behind.

The ladder descended into pitch blackness, and the floor at the bottom was somewhat spongy. Cecil racked his brain for this quarter’s password...oh yes,

“The Sun Has A Tick,” he uttered, recalling the Chief’s penchant for poetry, and the room was flooded with light as the wall slid sideways to reveal a bustling room full of officers and their various trained animals. He stood there blinking as his eyes struggled to adjust to the rapid shift, when a curly mop of gray-auburn hair came into focus.

“Coming, rookie?” she gently ribbed.

”Yes, good afternoon, Howl,” he chirped with a grin. He’d still been unable to refer to the ginger-headed policewoman by first name, as he not only admired her, but she’d been his very first partner. In his mind, Sophie Howl was the best mentor a young police officer could ask for, and Cecil would always be in awe of her. She stretched out a creamy and heavily freckled arm.

“I’ll escort you to him”

“Oh, madame- you really don’t have to, it’s not like I haven’t been there before,” he assured.

“Protocol, Cecil, we are about nothing at the NVSP if not stringent adherence to protocol,” she winked at him before striding into the fray.

 

Even though she was markedly shorter than Cecil’s five-feet-and-ten-inches, she moved along with such speed that he almost had to jog to keep up. They navigated through the maze of desks and workers and through a series of drab rooms. At one point, they walked into someone’s nightmare, and- as usual- they had to bend time to get out of it, but they finally made it to a pair of black lacquered wood-carved doors. The carvings depicted Night Vale’s founding, and they were _terrifying_ (but also _hilarious_ ).

 

“I’ll leave you to him. His ‘copter landed just before yours, so don’t keep him waiting." Before Cecil could utter a ‘thanks’ to the woman, she was gone, along with all exit routes aside from the giant set of doors leading to the sheriff's office. He was tempted to use his echolocation to see into the room before entering, but he had a feeling that the chief would sense something, and he didn’t need to send trouble a self-addressed stamped envelope.

 

Squaring his already square shoulders, tossing his white-blonde hair out of his eyes, he knocked twice and held his breath as the doors creaked open to reveal an exceptionally tall and fair man.

 

“Well, well, if it isn’t The Voice of Night Vale,” an eerie voice cooed sarcastically.

 

“Hi, Dad,” Cecil muttered as he entered the lavish office. “How goes running the town?”

 

“In this office, it’s 'Chief' or 'Sir', you clearly need to be reminded of your place, son.” He stepped lightly to sit behind a desk made entirely of rat skulls. Cecil had always thought the metaphor was a bit heavy, but he would never tell his father that.

 

“Sorry, SIR!” he emphasized, rolling his eyes as covertly as possible, and tossed his lanky form sideways into a nearby chair, flinging his legs over the arms.

 

“Better. Now, explain what is going on at the radio station,” he snapped sternly, folding his hands under his chin and pursing his lips.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t know to what you are referring,” Cecil lied awkwardly.

 

“Cecil, if you’re going to lie to my face, you had damn well better make it interesting. Now tell me why you are wasting City time on a ‘ _scientist_ ,’ especially one who doesn’t understand how clocks or clock-towers work. This is basic shit! I thought he was supposed to be some sort of ' _genius'_ , but now I’m wondering how he even fought his way out of the first grade!”

 

“He _is_ a genius, he’s just not from around here. You’ve got to give him time to adjust, you know that it takes a few months for humans to fully acclimate to Night Vale. Outsiders _always_ have trouble, I mean... his cohorts left the day after they arrived! He will be valuable..I..he..we, we just need more time.”

 

Cecil hated how he always felt like a child around the man. No matter how old he was, just a moment in his father’s presence was enough. “Please, Sir,” he said softly.

 

The chief paused, eyes softening for a second, before returning to their usual stoney gaze, “Alright, you’ve got a couple of months- that's all! But I’m going to need something soon for the Town Council- they've noticed him.”

 

Cecil gulped audibly. “Are...are...they displeased?”

 

“No, hell no- do you think we’d be having this conversation if they were? It’d be a done deal, you know that. No, I’ll do what I can to keep him out of their sight lines, but Cecil you’ve got to do more legwork to make this happen quickly. Spend time with him, explain how things work here- wait...you’re not truly ‘interested’ in him are you? This is all just for The Operation right?'

 

“Haha, no, of course I'm not ACTUALLY interested in him! Just for the job, that's all,” he lied more convincingly this time.

 

His father gave him a sideways glance. “Mmmkay, I hope so Cecil, it’d be really quite foolish to get involved with a guy like that. Whatever happened to you and Steve?”

 

“Oh my GOD, Dad, Steve _Carlsberg_? NO! I hate that guy! Can we please NOT talk about my love-life anymore? Ugh!” he said, scrunching up his face in disgust. “Steve Carlsberg- what a _jerk_.”

 

“Fine, fine,” the chief conceded, holding up his hands, “I’m just looking out for you son.”

 

“Are we about done here? I have _things_ to do.”

 

The Chief walked around the desk to lean on the front of it. “You’ve risen through the ranks, not just because you’re my son, and not just because you have special skills, but because you’ve put in the hard work. And I want to make sure you don’t fuck that up. Okay? Look, I know things have been difficult since the Lyme disease diagnosis, and the radio station op hasn’t been an easy gig, but I have faith in you Cecil.”

 

Despite his best efforts to be annoyed at his meddling father, he was rather touched by the short speech, and could merely muster a respectful, “Thank you, sir.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and headed back to the Brobdingnagian chair behind the desk. “On your way then- dismissed.”

 

Cecil scooted himself out of the office before his father changed his mind, and found Sophie patiently waiting on the other side of the ridiculous doors.

“Hello, my dear Howl. Eavesdropping, are we?” he smiled saccharinely.

“Oh NEVER, rookie, I wouldn’t dream of it!” Sophie replied, earning an widening of Cecil’s grin. The pair strode back the way they came, only this time she led him out to the storefront.

“What, no helicab?” Cecil pouted.

“Sorry, kiddo, you can find your own way home. Maybe a certain scientist who is confounded by clocks and drives a sporty coupe could come get you?” she taunted lightly.

“Brilliant idea, thanks Howl!” he exclaimed while pulling out his phone.

 

_Hey, could I get a ride?_

 

**Sure, I’m just finishing up some tests. Where are you?**

 

_Play Ball, the sporting goods place at the end of town._

 

**Can I run some experiments on your house?**

 

_~~Honey you can run experiments on my entire body.~~ _

_Of course, you could even come inside for a glass of Armagnac..._

 

**Okay, be there soon.**


	7. Three Cubic Feet of Blood and Bone and Meat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting a bit hot in here isn't it?

What Cecil thought was sexting banter actually turned out to be Carlos asking about collecting samples from his house.

“Remarkable, truly remarkable,“ Carlos muttered to himself while scraping a dubious looking slimy substance from the tiled porch.

“Uh huh,” Cecil replied absently, collecting data of a different sort, his gaze fixed on the back side of the squatting scientist.

“I’ve been comparing samples from the exterior of multiple Night Vale residences, and have found all of them to be covered with a viscous substance, except for Farmer Peters'. Clearly, there’s much more testing to be done.”

Honestly, just about everything he’d come across in Night Vale was extraordinary; he was truly obsessed with the still-hot meteorite that sat in Farmer Peters' field. He couldn’t wait to get back to the lab to analyze the substance from Cecil’s house, though, as this was the first time he’d been in this neighborhood. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure where he was, come to think of it- he didn’t recall driving here at all.

“Well, I think I’ve got everything I need,” Carlos proclaimed, lab coat fluttering as he stood up quickly and prepare to leave. “Just direct me how to get back to my lab and I’ll be on my way.”

“Wanna come in for some water before you go? It’s a REALLY hot day, and I have fresh orange slices,” Cecil offered, still ogling the beautiful, dark man.

“Hmm, yes, I suppose it would be wise to ingest some fluids and stave off dehydration; every day here is excessively warm.”

At the word ‘fluid’, Cecil’s imagination ran wild with the image of Carlos swallowing something other than water.

 

“Er, come on in” he said, hurrying through the doorway in an attempt to hide his growing erection even as the faint glowing of his tattoos gave away signs of his arousal.

Oblivious as usual, Carlos walked straight through to the living room and surveyed the interior with a critical eye.

“Oh...Ohhhh, Cecil!” Carlos marveled. “I thought _I_ loved to read! Wow, I’m just...this is fantastic!” He gaped at the shelves upon shelves of bookcases that lined the large room, filling it with what had to be thousands of books and ran a reverent hand over some of the spines as he skimmed the titles. “You’ve really got quite a collection here. I had no idea you were such an avid reader!” he marveled, gazing at Cecil with a look of awe.

Cecil’s cheeks flushed with a slight purple hue and he stared bashfully at his shoes. “Yeah, I know I’m only supposed to read municipally-approved books, but I just love to read so much...I sneak them in whenever I can.”

“You know, I may have underestimated you, Cecil- you're...you’re….” Carlos moved closer. “You’re glowing, Cecil!” Carlos raised both eyebrows and smirked.

“Umm...yeah, well, you’re brilliant, a-and gorgeous!” Cecil stammered out nervously; silver-purple eyes blinking out from under long white lashes.

Carlos stepped further into Cecil’s space so that they were only inches apart and narrowed his eyes, staring intently. “Really, you think I’m brilliant? Even though I understand virtually nothing about this town?”

“Yeah, I do! I know you’ll figure everything out- I believe in you Carlos!” Cecil said as he allowed his fingers to trail lightly against Carlos' forearm, which only served to make the bio-luminescence burn brighter.

“I think you’re stunning too, and I am absolutely fascinated by _these_ ,” Carlos confided, grabbing the hand caressing him and tracing a path along one of the tattoos with his fingers.

“I think I need to run some tests,” Carlos smirked. “Can I lick them?”

“Oh God, YES,” Cecil breathed out in reply as Carlos lifted a delicate wrist up to his mouth and ran his tongue over the beautiful glow.

“Mmmm...delicious, though I think I’ll require more data...” he grinned fiendishly up at a nodding Cecil.

“Uh hunh...” was all he got out before Carlos lurched forward, shoving up chest to chest, knocking Cecil back into a bookcase and tonguing a stripe along his neck. He attempted to speak again, but only managed to release a wordless, guttural moan in response.

Carlos rucked up Cecil's soft pink sweater vest, pulled out the tails of his shirt, and ran a warm hand over the even warmer skin on his flat stomach.

Knees weakening, Cecil held on to Carlos’ strong back as his neck was lavished with kisses, nips, and a hot wet tongue brushing over the many tattoos.

Cecil’s eyes rolled back and he released a loud moan as he felt Carlos’ hard cock press against his thigh. Frantically, he jerked back in the few centimeters of space left, allowing Carlos to finish pulling his vest off.

“You’re _so_ incredibly handsome, and I’m _so_ incredibly _impatient,_ ” Carlos cooed, gazing lasciviously at Cecil, who was fumbling to unfasten the fifty wooden buttons that formed a stalwart barrier between them. Before Cecil knew it, Carlos was fervidly tearing the shirt apart with both hands, and buttons pinged around the room, revealing his pale, sinewy chest adorned in brightly colored and luminous tattoos. Cecil's eyes were blown wide with desire.

 

Carlos sighed with a faux heaviness, “I really should catalogue all of these...for science.”

“Of course, anything for SCIENCE,” Cecil vowed as he tugged the lab coat off Carlos and made a pathetic failure of an attempt to rip his flannel shirt.

Carlos smiled. “I’ve got this,” he insisted, unbuttoning and tossing the shirt cavalierly behind him.

They quickly pressed back together, both attempting to get at the neck of the other. Carlos loved the way his nipples felt rubbing over Cecil's gleaming tattoos; a hint of electricity passed through him, and it was completely unlike anything he had felt before. It also made him realize standing up wasn’t going to be easy, so he decisively twisted Cecil down to the hardwood floor.

The sound of Cecil's bones colliding with the solid floor startled Carlos out of his lust-filled haze. “Shit! Sorry, umm, should we move to the couch?” he questioned, still straddling Cecil’s hips but looking down at him with concern.

Biting half of his lower lip, Cecil wrenched Carlos back into his arms. “No, I like it sorta...umm..sorta rough. I mean nothing crazy, I don’t wanna, you know call forth demons of the Nether-realm or anything, but I’m open to...stuff.”

His confession snapped something deep inside Carlos, and he reached back, grabbed Cecil’s wrists, stretched them over his white-blonde head, and pinned them there before ducking back down to continue sucking a path across his exposed flesh.

Cecil’s head tipped back and his hips flexed upwards at the possessive gesture. His mind struggled for thought, but all he could focus on was his overwhelming need for more friction, and he rutted his trouser-clad cock against Carlos, who replied with a throaty growl as he mirrored the gesture. Neither of them minded very much that their zippers were now digging painfully into them both.

Carlos paused and whispered into Cecil’s ear, “If we’re confessing things, I should tell you that I have odaxelagnia. That means I get turned on by biting... is that alright with you?”

“Fuck YES- please,” he moaned, as Carlos bit down ruthlessly on the soft flesh where neck met shoulder. “Oh damn Carlos, you make me so fucking hot!”

Latched together now, their gyrations grew more vigorous, and Cecil was moaning loudly and wantonly. They ground their hips against each other, cotton sliding roughly, and their hips snapped rhythmically together, chests slick with sweat and nipples erect and burning from the frenetic pace.

Carlos realized he was moments away from orgasm. He released Cecil's flesh from his mouth just long enough to murmur, “So... _close_...” before clamping back down on the other side of the long pallid neck that was now glowing with pleasure.

Carlos clasped one hand tighter around Cecil’s wrists and moved the other to his neck, pressing a thumb firmly to the spot where his mouth had been only seconds before. The pressure combined with Carlos' words were enough to send Cecil over the edge. His body racked with orgasm as he exploded inside his briefs, warm liquid flowing out in bursts, and he clung to Carlos with impressive strength. He gave a resounding groan, and struggled for air.

 

Cecil's keening cry went straight to Carlos' dick, and he felt the gush of warm semen flooding out of him as he bit down harder and slammed up against Cecil.

Carlos unfastened his jaw and relaxed his death-grip, chest heaving, and stared down at the quickly-forming bruises along Cecil's neck and chest. “Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” a worrying crease formed on his sweaty brow.

“Fuck no, that was...wonderful!” Cecil grinned languidly as he pressed his fingers into the blossoming blotches where Carlos’ mouth had been focused only moments earlier. “Mmmmm, hurts nicely... but next time I think we should lose the rest of this.” He gestured to their lower half, which was now cooling with a sticky dampness.

“Yes, definitely. Uh, where’s your bathroom? And any chance I could get that water?” Carlos chuckled while untangling himself from Cecil and the floor.

 

“Sure thing, it's the second door on the left,” Cecil pointed, indicating down a lamp-lit hallway. He watched the half-dressed man stroll away and frowned. _I was hoping for some cuddling,_ he thought, then quickly scolded himself. _Carlos isn't your boyfriend- not yet anyway- no. No, not ever_ , he decided.

 _Carlos is in enough danger already, the Town Council had NOTICED him. Of course_ , he reminded himself, _they did want him followed closely. They wouldn’t have to know how I honestly feel about him, would they?_

 

 _Maybe I could get Mayor Winchell to intercede? And tell her WHAT? "Hey, my Friend-with-benefits-Scientist needs to be protected." No, that's ridiculous. But, isn't that all we are? Isn't this what we do, just a quick fuck? You know that’s not what your heart wants. You want more... spending time with him. Sharing your life with him. Having sex in a fucking bed, waking up with him the next morning, and imagining the news from the Daily Journal. You are being an idiot,_ he thought harshly.

 

Cecil sucked in a deep breath, exhaled slowly through his nose, and got up off the hard ground, mind temporarily cleared. He headed to his master suite, pausing before a mirror to admire the many bruises that contrasted beautifully with his tattoos. _No complaints about the sex though, it really was fucking amazing_ , he mused delightedly.

 

Looking around the plush room, glancing over at his king-sized bed, images of the things they could do _in_ it flashed hotly. Licking his lips with delight he headed for the closet, _some fresh clothes first, making Carlos my boyfriend second._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll be delving into Carlos's mind...


	8. Among The Dog Packs of Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the brilliant, yet troubled mind of Carlos.

Cecil’s guest bathroom was rather easy to find in a hallway of nine white doors, as it was painted black. In addition, if there was any lingering doubt as to the exceptional nature of the room, a glossy laminated sign was posted in forty-eight point comic sans that read, “Bowel and Bladder Voidance HERE!” Underneath that, a bright yellow post-it note proclaimed, “Now with dirt-cleansing facilities.” _Yes_ , Carlos thought, _I could do with some cleansing_.

 

Carlos quirked a grin and readied himself for more weirdness as he stepped inside, yet a flick of the lights revealed the most ordinary bathroom he’d seen in quite some time and his eyes went wide. It was your average sink, toilet, and tub-filled room, decked out in subtle hues of what was probably called Effortless Eggshell or French Vanilla Cream. “Huh!” he huffed aloud. He racked his brain to conjure up a thought of one single ‘ _normal_ ’ bathroom he'd used in the many weeks since he’d moved to Night Vale, but came up empty.

 

 _Months, not weeks_ , Carlos self-corrected... _several months, I've been here for...well, exactly four months and three days_ , he marveled internally. He reached to run hot water from the overtly conventional bathtub, and sat down on the rim. _I thought I would’ve accomplished so much more in that time... of course I was supposed to have a team of grad students helping me out...instead, I’ve been abandoned_ , he frowned. _I still can’t believe Victor didn’t stay_ , he thought, and the young man’s lovely, earnest face dragged through his mind.

 

Carlos thought bringing Vic along on this expedition was going to morph their friends-with-benefits status into a ‘real’ relationship, but he had clearly misread the clues- _again!_ He thought, laughing bitterly at himself. _I’m such an idiot, why did I think I could ever have a real relationship? I mean honestly, who’d want to be in one with me? Me, a boring scientist._

 

Oh sure, men (and the occasional misguided woman) often hit on him, and he knew that he was what society deemed “conventionally” attractive. He was exceptionally symmetrical, he had a low percentage of body fat, and his shoulder-length hair was effortlessly glossy, but once they go to know him- him the fallible man, not the perfect professor- every one of them left. They always got fed up with him, his quirks, or his obsession with science, and eventually they dumped him.

 

_Well, No MORE! I’m not going to make that mistake EVER again! There will be absolutely no getting my hopes up. I need Cecil’s help with the townspeople, so we’ll have to remain friends. Also, I need to relieve tension, and sex is the most effective remedy; therefore Cecil and I should continue to engage in occasional and mutually beneficial sexual activities; but nothing further. I don’t think I could recover from yet another... disaster._

_The wise thing to do is to just give up on relationships. The whole concept is certainly pointless. I can evolve past this irrational desire to look for a partner, a “perfect match,” and focus on my one true love- science. After all, we all die alone, and along the way everyone hurts everyone else. Everything hurts. Everything just fucking hurts._

 

Mind whirling, now picturing the faces of all his former lovers- including Vic. _Vic, who didn’t even hug me goodbye, he just climbed in that damn van and left me in this terrifying town with its_ extremely _hot weather and incredibly bizarre residents. He knew I would be completely alone, and he left anyway. That’s what humans do; they take what they need and leave. Even Cecil, strange and amazing Cecil is just a man. A man like any other._

 

No, not like any other man. Cecil was unquestionably the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. _Especially with those magically glowing tattoos, mmmm, and his voice positively thrilling, and ….whoa whoa whoa- brakes on your brain Carlos! He’s still a man. You know men just want one thing, and once he gets bored he’ll find someone else to fuck, and I’ll be the one left holding this emotional baggage. Nope, not doing that again, too inescapably painful. Not again! Let’s just keep this light and fun, yes, I can do that. I CAN do that!_ he thought firmly.

 

 _Ignore things like the fact that getting a text from him makes your whole d_ ay- _that’s precisely the kind of thought process that gets you into trouble_. _No, I certainly won’t be feeding those thoughts. I won’t think about how his eyes light up when they meet mine and he glows….he actually glows!_ He felt the dull ache in his chest spread throughout his body.

 _Why can't things be different? Why can't Cecil be the one who'll stick around? That's not what people do, Carlos,_ he reprimanded himself, _don't lie to yourself. Love is a myth. No one stays forever, it's just not reality._

“Everyone leaves, don’t forget that,” he said aloud to punctuate the thought, agony spilling over every inch of his body, a manifestation of his mental torment.

He sighed heavily at the curls of steam before him, and lost all motivation to take care of himself. _After all, what's the point? We are all just stumbling through this existence we call ‘life’ alone. W_ ithout stripping down any further, he stepped into the full tub...trousers and all. He jerked, and sloshed his sopping legs up to hug tightly, and finally let the tears that had been welling rain from his eyes, and sobs racked his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry for the feels.


	9. Is Madness Keeping Us Afloat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The talk"

Walking back into the library-like living room (though blessedly free of terrifying librarians), Cecil expected to find a handsome scientist. Instead, all he found were their discarded shirts.

 _Hmmm...what is taking him so long?_ he wondered. _Maybe I should take a little peek? No, that would be invading his privacy, I shouldn’t….but he wouldn’t know….just a quick peek couldn’t hurt._

Sitting down on the floor, he immediately began the process for using his echolocation skills and mentally zipped into the guest bathroom.

While he thought he’d catch a view of Carlos doing something banal like checking himself out in the mirror or hailing the glow cloud, he was absolutely unprepared for the shock of seeing him still half-dressed and crying in the bathtub.

The vision was jarring, and thrust him back into his regular state. _What in the hell? Sex with me made him cry? Oh Gods-What did I do? Was I that bad?_ Question after worried question flashed through his mind.

 

His hands reached up to cover his shaking face. _No no no, oh this is not good, shit, shiiiiiit, what am I supposed to do? Go check on him? Just sit here and wait? Should I go wander the sand wastes in consternation? Bring him a puppy? Arrgh! I never know what to do in these situations!_

Feeling completely out of his depth, he let the questions filter in and out of his mind, considering each option and finally decided that he had to at least check on him.

Gliding down the hallway and wringing his pale hands, he changed his mind fifty times before he stood in front of the black door. He sucked in a deep breath, his tattoos shifted through an array of green shades, and he knocked tentatively,

“Carlos?”

“Hellooooo, Carlooos?”

 _Oh no what if the tub became sentient and drowned him?_ , was his thought before bursting into the room with fear apparent all over his face.

“Carlos, are you alright?” “Cecil, what are you…?” they spoke simultaneously.

  
“Sorry, oh sorry, I just thought...I thought you were…” his thoughts died away when he saw the tear-laden tracks on Carlos’ face. “You’re not okay, are you?”

Dipping his head to lean against his own knees he murmured, “I’m fine, Cecil.”

“Carlos, don’t lie to me, please, whatever you do, please tell me the truth,” he pleaded and moved to kneel on the cold tiles, next to the tub. He found himself desperately wanting to reach out a hand and run it through the luscious black mane. He threw caution to the wind and gave in to the temptation.

Carlos flinched at the contact, but leaned ever so slightly into Cecil’s hand.

“I’m not lying Cecil, I am fine." Carlos said. "I’m just not good at dealing with certain...events, and my mind tends to run me into dark places,” he confessed, finally looking up to gaze into the silvery-purple eyes. “I’ve got demons, Cecil. Does that make sense? Does that freak you out? It does, right?”

“No, no, not at all Carlos. We all have demons! Some of mine come over for drinks on Thursdays,” he said lightly, running a thumb over Carlos' eyebrow.

Carlos shook his still-dry head free of Cecil's hand. “No, not actual demons. I mean that my past haunts me. I’ve made mistakes, I’m not perfect. You have me on this pedestal and I can’t stand it up there. I have flaws, and when you realize that, you’re going to…” he turned away to stare at the stark walls, unable to finish the painful speech.

Then the water was churning and splashing, and Carlos was shocked to find Cecil, still fully-clothed, stepping into the lukewarm tub with him. Cecil reached to place a hand on either side of his face.

“Carlos, listen. You are perfect, perfect for me. I know that you have flaws, I see them, and that’s what I adore about you. Your flaws are what make you perfect."

Carlos’ eyes went wide with disbelief and he knocked the pale hands away. “There is so much about me that you don’t know Cecil! Trust me, if you knew it all, you wouldn’t find me so appealing.”

“You’re wrong Carlos, I know you. I see you, who you really are, and it’s beautiful.”

“I can’t do this Cecil, it’s just too much, I….I have to focus on my work- I should go. Goodbye,” and with that Carlos stood up and practically ran out of the bathroom, dripping water along the hardwood floors. Leaving everything he had behind, he slammed the front door and was pulling his car out of the driveway before Cecil even had time to fully comprehend what was happening.

So, Cecil sat there, completely dressed in the tub, _Uggggh_ , he lamented internally, _I handled that SO wrong! Oh my gods, how will I ever make him my boyfriend, if I keep scaring him off? At least I didn’t tell him I loved him, if he knew that- he’d probably never speak to me again. Now, what do I do? I wonder if Dana’s up for a drink, I could really use one._

He got out and padded, soaking wet, into the living room to search for his cell phone, and used speed dial to get a hold of the intern.

“Hey Cecil!” she said brightly, picking up after only a single ring.

“Oh Dana, I’m so glad you answered, I need you here- STAT!”

“Are you at the station?”

“No my house, and bring wine, the big bottle, and non-corporeal pie. Oh and ice cream if you have it.”

“Crap, who broke your heart this time?”

“Don’t make me say his name Dana, I’ll lose it, I swear, just come over pleeeeeeease.”

“Alright, give me twenty minutes.” They hung up without goodbyes.

 _Guess I should get into some dry clothes_ , he looked down at the sopping mess that was his carefully chosen wardrobe. The lavender corduroys and chartreuse zip-up leather long-sleeved top were completely soaked. _I hope the tub water hasn’t ruined these_ , he frowned as he walked back into the bedroom to get ready for his best friends arrival, t _hough I don’t think I’ll ever wear them again._


	10. Gatorade is no substitute for H2O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The guys are trying to get their sh*t together, and the mystery of the meteorite reveals herself.

Parked on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, half way through a gallon of Night Vale’s finest _Rocky Road-With Real Rocks_ ice cream and bottle number two of the cheapest red wine Dana could find (allegedly a Merlot), the two sat chatting, when suddenly Cecil heard the shriek that indicated he’d received a text.

“Oh shit, crap, Dana! What if it’s him? What if he’s sorry? Oh, what if he’s not sorry? Ahhhh!”

“Just look at it- you big queen, gah!” she replied refilling both their glasses.

He grimaced at the loving put-down, “Fine, no. No I can’t- you read it!” Shoving the cellphone in her face.

“Ugh, give it here love.” She snatched the cell, read the text silently, and then aloud, **Sorry for freaking out today, I’ve got a lot of THINGS I need to deal with and I hope you don’t take it personally, it’s not about you- you’re amazing. I just need to figure some issues out, okay? Still friends?**

“Fuck no, that ass ran out on you, Cecil! Stand up for yourself, grow a pair, and tell him to find someone else to mind-fuck.” Dana said defiantly, her protective instincts rearing, as she slid the phone back down the table.

“Dana, come on you know I love him. He’s in a new place and he DOES have a lot to figure out! Can’t you cut him some slack?”

“Can’t you grow a backbone? Can't you tell him you’re too good to be a fuck-buddy? You are a police sergeant, Cecil! One who's on a really prestigious undercover assignment. Love, you're not some local yahoo working at the bowling alley. You should demand total respect, dear heart,” she said as she waved a spoonful of ice cream at him for emphasis.

  
“Oh come off it, Dana. You and I both know I only got promoted cuz my dad’s the sheriff. Aaaaand I got the undercover radio gig cuz I have echolocation which is amplified by the station's tower. I’m not some brilliant scientist with perfect hair like Carlos. Furthermore, remind me to put a hit out on Telly for cutting that perfection, will you?” Taking a hefty swig of the dry wine before picking up his cell again.

“Uh... don’t think you’ll have to worry about that one... I'm pretty sure no one’s heard from him, since he banished himself to the sand wastes.”

“Well, that’s at least one problem solved. Now, what I am supposed to say in this text?”

“How about, 'Ohhh baby, we can be friends alright, the kind who fuck like rabbits!'.”

“Oh yes, that sounds nice.”

“NO, Cecil! I was fucking joking, you can’t text shit like that- geez! You want a relationship, remember? You need to play it cool, and let him know that you’re the one running the show. That the cards are in your hand. You should, I dunno...think about what a hooded figure would say… they’re really cool.”

“Sooo, how about if I say, 'Yeah it’s all good, but you should probably make it up to me soon'.”

“Oh I like that, YES, say that!”

Cecil typed out the text, but changed a few bits: _No worries, Carlos, it’s all good. However; it is customary to have make-up sex to resolve these types of situations._

“There-I sent it...Oh my gods I sent it! Eeeek, shit! Was that too forward? Oh, I wish I could take it back!” He tore off his glasses, and rubbed his nose in nervous anticipation.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for a response, as another shriek resounded throughout the room.

**I too have heard of this custom and would like to make good on it. I would hate to offend the locals, as beautiful and luscious as they are.**

_Do you have anything going on tomorrow?_

**Well, you were supposed to come help me interview Farmer Peters, maybe afterward you could further explain this new custom, in a very hands-on manner?**

_~~Yes, oh gods yes,~~ _ _Sure-I’ll see you in the morning then!_

**Perfect, see you there. Goodnight, handsome, goodnight.**

_You think I’m handsome? ~~~~_

_~~Oh I love you~~ _

_~~You have my heart~~ _

_Goodnight dear Carlos, Sleep well_

“There done!” Cecil smiled triumphantly.

“Okay, okay, let me read it!” Dana demanded. After having waited patiently for the two men to finish their exchange, she grabbed at the phone impetuously, and quickly scanned through the conversation before sending a loud smack to Cecil's forehead.

"Ouch! What was that for Dana?" Cecil rubbed at the site that didn't hurt, but pouted like it did.

“Make-up sex? He fucking ran out of your house half-dressed and soaking wet because you like him, and you're going to give him make-up sex? What in the hell, Cecil? This does not translate into a relationship! Ever heard that expression about buying the monkey when you can eat its brains for free?”

Cecil’s huge grin, now turned itself upside down into an equally large frown, “Do you think he only wants sex from me? Perfect, beautiful Carlos, just wants my body and not my heart or mind? No it can’t be, I just can’t believe that.”

“Well wake up and smell the orange slices, cuz that’s the road you’re on. Unless...unless you do something drastic to change it.”

“Drastic? Like what? Tell me Dana, tell me what I should do?”

"Hmmm." Pausing to gulp down a bit more wine and reconsider her tactics, Dana continued with a sigh. “Sorry, no. I wish I could, but honestly that’s between you two.” What the hell do I know, I’m just a fucking Intern,” she said ruefully.

“Dana you won't always be an Intern, but I'm always going to listen to your advice. Please, I...I just don’t know how to _be_ around him. I want to hold him and touch him and listen to him, but it's like he’s got all these massive walls that keep me at bay. Seriously, if you were in my shoes, what would you do?”

“Cecil, I hate to tell you, but I'm fairly certain that's a guy thing. Being a Gold-star _Lesbian_ , I have no ' _personal_ ' experience, but I think men are just wired differently. All the women I've been with enjoyed talking about our hopes, dreams, and _lots_ of feelings." She paused for another swill, "But the sex does tend to go on and on an on and on and ….”

Cecil interrupted Dana, with his free hand over his ear, “I get it! Ewww stop! Next up you’ll be talking about lady bits, yuck!"

She giggled a bit, “Sorry, reminiscing... it's been a while, but damn Cecil. You need to be more sex-positive! There is nothing ‘eww” about a vagina. They are magical and create life, like I don't know...yours!” Dana said with jovial conviction.

“You're right. Sorry darling, I’m just all kerfuffled right now and not thinking clearly, my mind is consumed with a certain ebony scientist who's got ' _issues_ ' and I've no clue what to do about it. Guess I'll just figure it out as I go! Tonight, however... tonight we'll finish off these absolutely horrid bottles of uncomplex and utterly cheap wine, eat this whole other gallon of _Shockingly Pink_ ice cream, and then tomorrow I’ll be ready to face him. What do you say to that?”

“I say...drink up, love!” She filled their glasses to the brim again with a giant, knowing smile. “Cheers to the City Council,” she said, invoking standard Night Vale protocol, while holding aloft the oversize glass of the alleged Merlot.

“Hey! I’m not bugged here, remember?"

"Oh, right! Well, then what should we toast to?"

"Hmmm, how about... to falling in love with the person of your dreams, and having them love you back.”

Dana secretly admired Cecil's cheesy earnestness, but covered it up by adding, "Sure, but also to mind-blowing sex where the orgasms are many and the refractory periods are few.”

Which drew a knowing look, tinged with annoyance. "Fine. That too."

They clinked glasses, and settled in for what was shaping up to be an epic night.

 

***********

On the other side of town sat Carlos, in a much more sullen state, though equally inebriated. He was alone on his sofa in the rented flat above his lab, next to Big Rico’s Pizza. He could hear the sounds of patrons laughing and enjoying their dining experience. _No doubt the place is full of lovers on happy dates_ , he thought scornfully, as he listened to the clink of glasses and scrape of dinnerware, each sound a dagger to his heavy heart.

 _I should be in there with Cecil_. _He should be laughing about today's events, like how time-space was ripped open and an eerie cloud had rained animal-death down upon Night Vale. Cecil should be forlornly caressing what was left of the hack job done by Telly the barber. We should be together, not miles apart._

He rolled the neat glass of whisky between his finger and thumb. He’d probably get through quite a bit of the bottle tonight, with all the thinking he had to muddle through, and whether it was the liquid courage or the fact that he just couldn’t stand going more than a few hours without checking in with the radio host, his resolve broke, and he texted Cecil. Well, more like openly flirted with him.

He slammed a hand to his face, _I have no idea what I'm was doing, this was not at all how this trip was supposed to go. I'm_ so _not good with radical change. After all, I am a scientist, I like order and structure. And this 'thing' with Cecil was totally random and unknown. Oh, how I wish I was bold enough to talk to Cecil about all this._ Instead, he sat alone with only his bottle of scotch for companionship.

He listened intently to the downstairs diners as their laughter filtered up like tinkling bells, the sound no longer grating, but soothing to his burning ears. _Why can’t things just be easy? Why don’t I have it all figured out by now? I thought I was past all this, emotion, love, sentiment, I was supposed to be above it all. The science was my partner and she never let me down, but I’m letting her down, letting all of this get in the way. Well it has to stop. Straddling these two halves of my brain is only going to split me in two, I need to choose. But what do I choose? How do I make the most informed decision?_ He took another large mouthful of the liquor and let it burn down his throat. _Decisions, Decisions…._

 

************

The next morning, Carlos woke to the familiar sensation of a dry mouth, pounding headache, and a huge crick in his lower back from falling asleep on the couch.

“Uuuuughh, I’m never drinking scotch again!” Carlos announced to the vacant room, even though he had uttered those exact words before. _This time I really mean it,_ he thought. He popped and rolled his muscular body into a more usable form and was disappointed to see that there wasn’t enough time to get in a run before his appointment with John Peters, AND Cecil would be there! He popped a couple of aspirin, downed a bottle of water and hurried through a shower, but took painstaking care when it came to choosing his outfit, going with the lab-coat with the least amount of questionable stains.

Standing in front of the mirror checking out the finished product brought on another mental dilemma, _Oh shit, what am I going to say? This is going to be totally and completely awkward! Or it could be fine, Cecil could just act normal, right? Although what’s normal for Cecil is something I've not quite figured out just yet. What to say? What to do? I better just go get this over with._

He continued his typical morning routine, poured some coffee, and made a bit of toast. He checked his wristwatch (which might still be working) and ran downstairs to collect the equipment he’d need for the day, bread wedged firmly between his lips, coffee tumbler tucked in his armpit, before he stormed out of the house in a flurry of instruments and paperwork. He didn’t want to be late for the meeting, and he drove somewhat over the speed limit (checking the sky for the blue or the more terrifying black helicopters) to make it on time.

When he arrived at the farm, Cecil was already deep in what looked like a friendly conversation with John Peters.

“Farmer Peters, Cecil, nice to see you both!”

“Good Morning Doc..er, Carlos,” said the farmer.

“Yes, it’s nice to see you too, Carlos” Cecil grinned at him, showing all of his gleaming teeth in a gesture that was either endearing or ominous- he couldn’t tell which.

“Shall we get started?” he said, awkwardly motioning towards the large glowing meteorite.

“Oh sure, I’ve already got John’s permission for you to collect samples,” said Cecil moving closer to Carlos.

“Excellent!” Carlos beamed, “Let me get my equipment and we’ll get started right away.” He practically bounced back to his car; he’d been waiting for months to collect these samples and he hoped they would finally make his expedition worthwhile, as thus far everything had blown up in his face- sometimes quite literally.

He pushed thoughts of relationship issues with Cecil out of his mind as he dug through all manner of bags and containers filled with a variety of devices. Grabbing a select few items, he made his way down to the rock where the farmer and radio host were idly standing by.

“Do you need help with some of that, son?” the kindly farmer asked, regarding the bulky contraptions held in Carlos’ large arms.

“No, no thank you John, I’m good,” said Carlos as he began unpacking and setting up the pieces he’d brought for the momentous occasion.

The two men watched as many minutes and a lot of sweat later Carlos was finally ready to perform his experiments.

“Alright, everything's ready and I’ve got the camera and heat sensors up, which should record everything for posterity,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “so I think we're ready to collect some samples!” He was as giddy as a schoolboy. Carlos grabbed the appropriate items and went to scrape the rock. He had expected it to have a tough stone-like consistency, and he was beyond shocked to find it was more like a milky latex. His tool only made a temporary indentation which popped back out the moment he removed it, leaving no mark in its place. “Hmm, that’s odd,” he muttered and went to search for another sharper instrument.

“Oh, shit!” Cecil shouted from behind.

Carlos turned around quickly to find the rock... melting. It was shrinking fast like an ice cube on a typical Night Vale afternoon, but the air hadn’t suddenly gotten any warmer. The liquid that streamed out as the rock withered away was of a highly unusual color. In fact, it was not a color that the he could identify; it was something totally off the color spectrum- he was sure of it, and he ran to collect samples as it was seeping into the ashen farmland. The liquid moved like water, but with a purpose as if towards a magnet. Carlos had to move fast to capture a bit of it. In about two minutes, the rock went from an enormous boulder to leaving no trace that it had ever been there other than the burnt out 'cornfield' where it had stood only moments before.

“What in the hell was that?” Carlos asked to no one. No one answered.

The three men stood there dumbfounded.

“I have to get this back to the lab, thanks for your help guys, I’ll see you later.” Tires threw up gravel as he screeched off the farm and back into town., leaving Cecil and John Peters to stare at the now empty farmland, minds full of questions.


	11. Let’s Go Where Nobody Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing says "I'm sorry" like oral sex.

The day after the ‘melting meteorite’ incident, Cecil knew Carlos would be in the lab, diligently analyzing the liquid samples he had gathered. Therefore, he wasn’t worried when his text of “ _Hey Genius”_ went unanswered, or that all his calls went straight to voice mail- surely Carlos was simply embroiled in his experiments . When an entire week had passed without a peep from the scientist, however, Cecil became distraught.

 _What if something has gone terribly terribly awry? What if he’s been horribly mangled? What if he’s been_ happily _mangled- OH my dear Carlos!_ he fretted while delivering the daily Color forecast (tomorrow would be Tawny) and began to text in between reading out the rest of the program.

 

_Carlos?_

_How’s it going?_

_Working hard?_

_Are you alright?_

_Please answer me_

_I just want to know that you’re alive_

_It’s been a week since I saw you ~~~~_

_~~or smelled you~~ _

_~~or touched you~~ _

_or heard you_

_Call me_

_please_

 

He waited and waited, yet his cell remained infuriatingly quiet.

Cecil continued the broadcast halfheartedly, and every few seconds he checked to make sure his phone was still working. Sadly, it appeared to be functional.

“The memorial service for the thirty-eight people killed by pterodactyls at the PTA meeting was held today, and congrats to Larry Leroy for winning the raffle,” he said despondently, his attention consumed with worry for Carlos.

Without warning, the studio door softly opened, and there stood the object of his obsession. The strong-jawed and dark-skinned Carlos walked silently over to Cecil, white lab coat fluttering as he bent down to whisper, lips brushing his ear, “I’m so sorry Cecil, but I’m here to make it up to you.”

At the apology the reporter’s eyes went wide, but he couldn’t stop the show, Station Management would never allow it, nor would his father or the rest of his secret police, so he continued. .

“The backpacks believed to be causing autism were…” he fumbled for words as Carlos dropped to his knees and nosed his head directly into Cecil’s lap. “...found near the Dog Park, but as Night Vale’s Mayor Winchell maintains that there is NOOOOO d-d-d-dog park,” he gasped as Carlos mouthed his half-hard cock through his slacks.

Well this was a first! He’d never gotten an apology blow-job before, and certainly never On-Air! He gripped the arms of the leather chair tightly as Carlos reached up and unclasped his suspenders. Cecil expected his pants to be undone next, but was astounded as he realized Carlos was winding the suspender straps around his arms, tying him securely to the chair. The scientist looked up at him with soft brown eyes, seeking confirmation and Cecil nodded furiously. This was going to be _awesome_ , he decided, while still struggling to maintain broadcasting as his shirt was being unbuttoned.

“ThaaAankfully, the Night Vale Scorpions were victorious over the stupid Desert Bluffs...uh...uh…whatevers,” his mind blanked on the name of their no doubt ridiculous mascot as his fly was unzipped and he lifted his hips to help Carlos tug his pants and Hawaiian-print boxers down, trapping his ankles. He was now completely immobilized and fully exposed, hard leaking cock growing harder by the second against his flat stomach. He was so incredibly turned-on- how Carlos could know exactly what he wanted without having to ask a single question made the whole experience so much more erotic.

“The win mostly due to lightning-healed Sandero, who threw….umm….many...uh..uggggg....” He struggled to recall any data as Carlos pushed Cecil’s knees farther apart with his strong hands, and began running a tongue up and down his shaft, licked his balls, then swirled it up and around the head of his cock.

“...many...passes…” soft sucking commenced, and Cecil’s eyes rolled back with pleasure. If this was what happened when they didn’t talk for a week, he wondered how Carlos would apologize for working on a month-long experiment. His mind couldn’t wander too much, as he was still, making a valiant effort to report on the high school football game, and now Carlos was taking him down his warm and moist throat, down and down, until he was making little gagging noises as he forced himself breathe through his nose.

Carlos’ tongue was flexing and pressing against his sensitive flesh and it drew a moan out from Cecil, “Ooooh, the Scorpions, were so fantastic, yes, they were...oh YES! They were so brilliant.” The sensation was _glorious_. Unable to move much, he flexed his hands into fists, relishing the sight of himself disappearing inside Carlos’ lovely mouth.

It wasn’t long before he felt close and gave up all hope of accurate reporting. He twitched his hips, trying to warn Carlos, who just sucked harder and released a knee to tug on Cecil’s balls.

“They...umm...yes..the game was so close...so effing close…” then he was ecstatic as the orgasm violently rippled through his body, “YES! OH GOD!” He forgot to care about the report as hot streams of semen flooded down Carlos’ throat, who slurped at his cock greedily.

Carlos drank him dry, pulled off, and then licked him gently to get every bit of come, while Cecil slumped down into the chair.

Realizing, that there had been a good minute of dead air, he panted out, “Great job, players. You kids really know what you’re doing. And now...the weather.” Carlos was staring up at him with a satisfied smile. He caught the gesture Cecil was making, and pressed the large button on the console that said “WEATHER”, which made “Elephant” by Tame Impala begin to play and the “ON AIR” light was extinguished.

“You better put me back together before this report is over. I think Station Management might get a clue that something's going on in here,” Cecil cautioned with an huge grin.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Cecil,” Carlos murmured as he untied him from his own clothing, still kneeling at his feet. “I hope you’ll forgive me for being such a bad friend, and getting lost in my work...I was so focused that I let my cell battery die, and...well you should know I have a habit of doing really stupid shit like that,” he said worryingly, eyes downcast as Cecil zipped himself back up.

Cecil bent over and lifted Carlos' strong jaw in his fingertips. “Hey,” he coaxed, “I forgive you, okay? And you don’t have to suck me off every time to apologize- though I certainly wouldn’t complain. You’re amazing!”

He was rewarded by Carlos rising out of the crouch and diving in to hug him tightly as he murmured into his neck, “Thank you, Cecil, you’re pretty amazing yourself.”

The familiar purple blush extended from his face down his neck. “So, did you figure out what that meteorite stuff was?”

Carlos pulled away from him. “No, and I had better get back to it. It’s deteriorating, and I don’t know how much time I have before it’s completely evaporated.”

“So, you stopped doing your important, time-sensitive experiment to come apologize to me?”

“Yeah,” he huffed a laugh, “I was going to just tell you, but when I saw you sitting there looking so sexy, I just...well…” he looked out shyly from under his long dark lashes.

“Oh, Carlos, thank you!” was all he could muster, and fought the terrible urge to leap up and kiss him.

“I had better go. I’ll keep my phone charged; text me, okay?”

“For sure, Carlos, I will! And hey, come back anytime. Really, ANY time”

“Alright! Bye, Cecil”

The song ended and he could only wave back as he was ON AIR..

“Listeners, a wise man once said,

_“Oh, great was the sin of my spirit,_

_And great is the reach of its doom;_

_Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it,_

_Nor can respite be found in the tomb:_

_Down the infinite aeons come beating_

_the wings of unmerciful gloom.”_

“Isn’t everything just wonderful? Goodnight Night Vale, Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the smut, as there is much more where that came from...


	12. Can’t Live for Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arm-aerobics and Parent-analytics.

Carlos tried to run to his little coupe, but could only manage a kind of rapid shuffle thanks to the immense erection he was sporting. _Ugh! Why didn’t I just let him reciprocate? I have so many issues, I should have my own peer-reviewed journal._ He slammed the car door with a grunt, _I’ve got to get home and take a cold shower, no fuck it, a hot one...a longer than normal one_ , he thought stubbornly.

 

The drive home dragged on, but it was thankfully free of the Sheriff’s Secret Police. They seemed to always be around and watching. _Hmmm...I must be getting paranoid, no one would actually spy THAT much on their own citizens._   He dismissed his suspicions, climbing the stairs to his rented apartment.

 

Tossing his keys on the kitchen table, Carlos made a beeline for the bathroom. Stripping down while maneuvering around the many boxes he had yet to unpack, he left a trail of rumpled clothing. Once in the steaming shower, he wasted no time in grasping a wet hand around his uncomfortably hard cock and stroking it slowly.

 

His mind went immediately to thoughts of Cecil as he ran his fist up and down his shaft, _his stunning eyes, his smooth chest, his lithe yet muscular limbs, his slender prick which tasted like melon, Oh GOD that taste_ \- his pace quickened and grip tightened.

His other hand, which had been splayed on the tiled wall for leverage, was now sliding down his crack. _Cecil’s wrists and feet bound, blindfolded, spread out for him pale and helpless_ he imagined, as a slippery finger tip wiggled its way into his ass, and his knees faltered as he relished the pleasure undulating through his body. _Cecil strapped to his bed, moaning as my cock disappears inside his dripping wet anus_ , was the final thought that brought him spilling out into his own hand. He pumped himself until he was spent, relishing the sensations of his own hands.

 

 _Shit, I’m too kinky, what the fuck?_ he thought, pulling his hands away. _Would Cecil be up for all that? ARGH, it doesn’t matter, he’s probably going to get bored with you before you even get to that_ , he mulled self-deprecatingly.

 

 _I’m such a freak, Cecil said he was up for some things, but I’m probably too much for him. I should just be happy with what we’ve done so far and not try to push it. There’s a chance I could push him too far. Then he won’t want to ever have sex with me again, and I don’t think I could stay in this town, with his voice on the radio, and not fuck him. That would be so incredibly awful._ Carlos’ thoughts pinged painfully around in his mind. His post-orgasmic mental flagellation was nothing new, but it was worsening, and he felt physically injured by the reflections as he cleaned himself up and quickly got out of the shower.

 

 _I’m a scientist, I’ve earned my doctorate, I’ve taught university courses and coached grad students, I should be able to have a fucking healthy adult relationship. Why am I so goddamned messed up?_ he continued to berate himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he dried himself off.

 

 _Don’t forget, handsome, people think you’re handsome, well, some people...Mama always did. Oh Mama- SHIT I haven’t called her in a week! I better call her before she sends the police over to check on me._ That was something his fiercely overprotective and stereotypically Latin mother had done more than once.

 

“Yes, Hello?”

“Hola, Mama”

“CARLOS, MIJO! I’ve missed you, why have you been ignoring your Madre?”

“Mama, it’s barely been a week.”  
“Exactly! I thought you had forgotten all about me.”

“Maaaa, come on, I’m feeling crappy and I can’t take the guilt trip right now.”

“What happened? Did your boyfriend dump you?”

“NO, Ma, I don’t have a boyfriend, Cecil and I are just... we’re just... I don’t know what we are, but he’s definitely not my boyfriend, and he hasn’t dumped me- yet.”

“Oh Mijo, why can’t you find one who wants to settle down and adopt some grand-babies? You’re not getting any younger.”

“Oh geez, Mom, really? That old line? Come on, I don’t even know if I want kids. Besides, I have to focus on my work. This grant is a huge opportunity and I can’t waste it. I’ve got less than two years here, and have to make the most of it. Course, no one would ever want to stay in a relationship with me anyway.”

“Carlos. You’re amazing, you have to stop that negative tape that runs through your head. It doesn’t help, and it isn’t even remotely true. I know how you beat yourself up my dear son, and it makes me so sad. I wish I could fill your thoughts with my own. I think the world of you.”

 

“Aw, thanks Mama, that means a lot to me. I think part of me knows it’s not true, but I don’t know how to shut it off.”

“Practice. Remember, every time you start down that path, just stop yourself and replace it with positive truths.”

“I try Ma, I really do, but it’s not easy.”

“I know, love. Keep at it, okay? I love you so much.”

“Thanks Mama, I love you too. Hey, is Papa around?”

“No, he’s off at his coffee-thing with all the other old white guys.”

“Ma!”

“What? That’s what they are?!”

“Hehe, I better go Mama. I have some really urgent experiments to get to anyway.”

“Alright Mijo, I’ll let you go, but call me anytime, okay? “  


“Okay.”

“Especially, if you need a reminder about how special and terrific you are.”

“I love you, Ma.”  


“Love you too.”

“Bye.”

“Goodbye mi corazón, call me!”

 

Carlos hung up wistfully. He felt so incredibly lucky to have such wonderful and loving parents, yet so frustrated at his self-loathing. _I’ve got to make them proud. I’m going to figure out what that meteorite substance is, focus on the work. The science is what’s most important. The science, Carlos, the science! Hmm...I wonder if I can catch the tail-end of Cecil’s broadcast?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot in the next chapter...


	13. You’re My Satellite

Another week passed, and Carlos continued to fail in his attempts to analyze the meteorite's substance. He had already lost hope of classifying the color, let alone determining something more complex like its viscosity. He was beginning to get desperate, as the sample he had collected was almost completely evaporated, yet he was no closer to identifying its composition.

 

He snatched up his cell phone.

 

**Cecil, are there any other scientists in the area?**

 

_Oh yes, we have hundreds of them here in Night Vale!_

_Some of them work out of the Community College, but most work for the City Council._

_Why do so many of you guys come to our boring little town?_

 

**LOL, this town is anything but boring! In the past few months, I’ve seen swarms of locusts, pus tornadoes, and had a realistic experience with some kind of mirror version of Night Vale.**

**No, this place screams “Study me!”**

 

_Pshaw, that was all bloodstone problems I’m sure, nothing was even worth giving a report on. ~~Esp. if you saw it all go down using echolocation.~~_

**Well, I’m going down to the college to see if I can find someone who’ll help me. I really need to replace my team, this is too much for one person to handle.**

 

_~~I miss you.~~ _ _If you need any help, I’m only a phone call away. Will you have any time to come by tonight? ~~For a date?~~_

 

**Yeah, probably. I’ll text you.**

 

_Oh, GOODY! I can make us dinner this time!_

 

**No, Cecil, it’ll be late like usual, eat without me, okay? I don’t really eat much anyway.**

 

_~~Shit~~ _ _. Right, oh sure thing. ~~dear~~. I’ll see you later then?_

 

**K, bye**

 

_~~Love you~~ _

_Goodbye_

 

Carlos had been over to Cecil’s place multiple times, and during each visit he had avoided any attempt made at making it ‘date-like’. Meaning no eating, no bringing over wine, no talking about their days- nothing but acts of mind-blowing sex.

 

He would only make space in his life for this friends-with-benefits type relationship, as he was waiting for the day Cecil would get bored and find someone more exciting to occupy his time. When that happened, and he knew it would, Carlos would be disappointed. Not as disappointed though, as if he let himself open up emotionally and then be summarily dropped. He knew, in the latter scenario, his heart would be shattered into little pieces.

 

Pieces that he wasn’t sure he could put back together again. It would be hard enough to get dumped, but it would be downright soul-crushing if it was by someone as amazing, as unique, as beautiful, and as remarkable as Cecil.

 

The self-doubt winding though Carlos’ mind quickly gave way to graphic pictures of the radio host. He began to daydream about naked Cecil and the ‘activities’ that they’d get up to tonight. Meeting these new scientists would no doubt be stressful. Good thing he'd remembered to purchase the water-based lubricant.

 

Carlos’ drift into happy planning was interrupted when he pulled his car up to where the map indicated Night Vale Community College would be. The crumbling buildings looked like bombs had been dropped on them, and not recently either. _This couldn’t be the place_ , he thought to himself. _Surely, these buildings are unsafe and only occupied by squatters. Maybe  it’s just these ones? I had better have a look around_. He got out to check the perimeter in case there was a building left intact and a scientist to be found.

 

He had never been this close to such a decimated structure. He gaped at the lack of windows, the visible rebar, and the cement rubble that spilled out of each building. Stepping over wood beams and various bits of metal, Carlos walked up to the closest one. He felt himself pulled to it, with an unyielding demand to touch what was left. He was accustomed to a tactile desire, but this was a downright need. He felt his pulse quicken as he approached. Carlos placed a hand to what was most likely the front door and all the hairs on his body jolted skyward as if he had touched a giant Van de Graaff generator.

 

He grinned at the thought of what he must look like, black and gray hair fanned out and standing on end. Carlos pulled his hand back, broke the connection, and his hairs dropped back into place. He couldn’t, however, keep his hands from stretching out to re-connect again and again. He touched and let go of the door several times, eliciting a child-like giggle from the normally stoic scientist.

 

“Yes, yes, I’m here, stop incessantly ringing the bell already,” a gruff voice startled Carlos, and he swiftly tucked his hands into his pockets.

“H-H-Hello?” Carlos stammered, as a dark-haired and mustachioed man strode elegantly into view, treading easily over and around the debris.

“Well? What is it you need? I’m very busy. Out with it!” He said, smoothing down the lapels of his perfectly tailored black wool suit.

Carlos was distracted by the man's heavy Slavic accent.

“Oh sorry, I...um...I’m, uh yes, Hello, I’m, uh... looking for scientists.”

“Well, congratulations, you have found one. I’m Doctor Nikola Dubinsky, head of the Chemistry department.”

“Really? That’s wonderful! I’m a scientist as well. Do you have a moment to talk about taking on a new project?”

“Well, we are very busy here at the college. I’m not sure I can squeeze anything in, but perhaps. Would you like to come in?”

Carlos peered behind him, “Where exactly?”

“The Chemistry lab, are you “special,” young man?” The Doctor morphed his face into something resembling dismal sympathy.

“What? Oh no, I just...  the building’s barely standing. Where’s the lab?” Carlos asked confusedly, eyes darting around the doctor.

Dubinsky rolled his eyes. “Follow me.”

 

Carlos crossed the threshold closely behind the Doctor, where they immediately turned down a long hallway lit only by the holes in its walls. He had to maneuver quickly to keep up with Dubinsky, ducking below fallen ceiling tiles and edging around piles of dusty bricks.

“Here we are,” Dubinsky commanded as he pushed open a warped wooden door that was hanging almost completely off its hinges.

 

Expecting to find more wreckage, Carlos was pleasantly surprised when he stepped into an enormous and immaculate hangar-sized lab, which seemed incongruous with the exterior of the building. It was completely filled with lab tables, and each one was covered in all manner of chemistry materials.

 

There were hundreds of microscopes, slides, beakers, test tubes, flasks and graduated cylinders in different shapes and sizes. Many of them were filled with liquids and powders, some bubbling over Bunsen burners, others were a mixture of colors swirling of their own accord. The whole effect was shocking for Carlos, and he marveled open-mouthed at the sight.

 

“Doctor Dubinsky, this is amazing! I…Wow!”

“Yes, we are very busy here at the college, so now you can see why I am hesitant to take on another project.”

“Oh, absolutely, yes. I understand, but I’m very much at my wits end, and I could really use your help. And these facilities would be amazing to work in.” Carlos stepped to a lab table filled with glowing test tubes that reminded him of Cecil’s tattoos. He reached to pick one up for further examination, and his hand passed right through it.

 

“Whaaa?” he moved to grab another, and again his hand touched nothing but air. “What’s going on here?” He ran over to another table and went through the same process, unable to pick up or even feel any of the equipment.

“Obviously YOU can’t touch anything here, you’re still alive young man. My goodness, what are they teaching young people these days?” Dubinsky muttered rhetorically as he began inspecting something inky with an compound microscope.

Carlos stood there, trying vainly to process the situation, then edged back over to the other scientist . “Excuse me Doctor, I don’t know what you’re trying to say” he said, shooting a hand to grasp Dubinsky’s shoulder, but it too touched nothing.

He sucked in a terrified breath, and yanked his hand back quickly. Carlos couldn’t believe it, the doctor looked and sounded so solid, and yet he had no substance.

 

“Please, that’s very rude.” Dubinsky gazed up at him reproachfully.

“OH, sorry, I just, ummm…sorry. Uh…I should go.” Carlos backed up, tripping over his feet and almost falling, heading towards the door.

“Yes, you probably should. As I said, I’m very busy.” The doctor ducked his head back down to the microscope, clearly dismissing Carlos, who continued his shocked stumble out of the lab, bounded down the hallway, and ran out of the building.

 

Chest heaving as he reached his car, he pressed a hand his forehead, making sure he was still solid, and then did the same to the sporty coupe. Carlos was somewhat reassured by both, and caressed the smooth metal underneath his fingers.

“That couldn’t have been…no. I don’t believe in…” he mumbled, unable to bring himself to say the word out loud. _I must be hallucinating, maybe I’ve got low blood sugar or something_ , he thought. _Yeah that’s surely it, I should go eat something, and never ever come back to this place again_ , he thought as a shiver ran down his spine.

 

 _I need to touch someone else, to make sure they're real, I need…I need Cecil_. He climbed into his car, and completely disregarded the speed limit. His fear of the secret police overwhelmed by his urgency to feel Cecil underneath his hands, Carlos headed straight for the radio host’s home.

 

He pulled up to park in the driveway, and barely made time to turn of the car before running up the steps and banging on Cecil’s door.

“CECIL...CECIL are you home? Please be home. CECIL!”

He continued to open-handedly smack the door until it swung open.

“What the f...Oh Carlos, hi!”

The scientist launched himself through the doorway and wrapped himself around Cecil in a tight bear-hug.

“Oh you’re real, thank God.”

“Of course I’m real. Carlos, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I just... I just needed you.”

A purple blush flushed Cecil’s face and neck and his tattoos began their soft glow.

“That’s totally fine, Carlos. Do you need anything else?”

“Yes,” he pulled back slightly. “You, to take me to bed- right now.”

A pleasantly surprised Cecil disengaged from the embrace without further discussion and led Carlos inside and into his plush bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what's coming next....ah yeah!


	14. Setting Souls Alight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly hope you find this chapter as *ahem* enjoyable to read as it was to write.

Carlos held fast to Cecil’s hand as he let himself be led into the bedroom. Once over the threshold, he moved quickly to wrap himself around Cecil once more.

“Are you sure you’re alright Carlos?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just doubting my existence, or the world’s, or both.”

“Hmm, that. Yeah, that happens to me all the time, I’m just happy you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be with you, thank you Cecil.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

“Oh, Carlos.”

Carlos could sense the wide smile spreading across Cecil’s face, though he couldn’t see it from his vantage point behind him. He inhaled into Cecil’s neck deeply. “God, you smell wonderful. Mmmm, you are so delicious. I can’t ever get enough of you, you know that? You’re like a drug to me, Cecil. A gorgeous, sexy-as-fuck pill that I crave,” he whispered huskily.

Pressing his chest firmly to Cecil's back, he lifted his head to run his lips softly over Cecil’s ear.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he said confidently as his tongue slithered over the shell.

Cecil whimpered and the radiance of his tattoos intensified, colors blooming.

“Yes, _please,_ Carlos.” Cecil tensed and writhed in his arms. Carlos sucked kisses down his neck until finding his pulse point, where he nipped gently, and tightened his grip around Cecil’s body.

Cecil continued to murmur dulcetly as he arched his back, trying to increase their contact as much as possible. _I love you_ , he thought, feeling desire pool warmly as he relished the sensation of Carlos’ growing erection pressing into his well-muscled glutes.

“Oh, Carlos... clothes...” was all he could utter, but the scientist understood completely. He unlatched himself, tossed his glasses on a nearby chair, and began tearing at his own tie. Cecil took a moment to gather his wits, but then he too began stripping quickly.

The second they were both naked, Carlos began crowding Cecil, who was intently studying the lean runners body that Carlos possessed, towards the bed. The dusting of black hair over Carlos' dark skin made Cecil’s mouth water, but before he could react, he felt himself flopping on the bed inelegantly.

Carlos pounced on top of him, nuzzling at the other side of his neck and down his chest, biting and suckling down to his nipples. He took one in between his teeth and pulled, causing a deep moan to well up inside of Cecil.

“Yes, oh God, _yes_ Carlos.” His cock squished achingly between their bodies, growing harder by the second, pre-come leaking out, as Carlos made his way down to it with agonizingly slow and wet kisses.

 

“Damn, you’re exquisite Cecil, every fucking inch of you is divine,” he marveled at the glowing man beneath him and licked a wet stripe up his dick.

“Fuck _yes_ ,” Cecil whined as Carlos wrapped his fist around the base of his long, lean cock and began sucking. Cecil spread his legs open wider and gripped the duvet with both hands to keep them from tearing what was left of Carlos’ hair out of his head, which was bobbing up and down, sucking harder and faster. Suddenly, he pulled off, and began licking Cecil’s balls before taking them into his mouth and rolling them around with his hot tongue.

Cecil threw his head back- he wanted to watch, but couldn’t keep his eyes open, he was so filled with pleasure and desire. Slowly, Carlos moved lower and lavished his tongue over the tight pucker of Cecil's ass, dragging a soft plea from his parted lips, “Oh, yes. OHhhh _yes_ ,” he moaned over and over, until Carlos lifted his head.

“Hold that thought.” He scrambled off the bed and dug around his trousers. “Ah ha, got it” smiling with glee as he held up the small bottle in triumph.

 

“Great, fan-fucking-tastic, now get back over here!” Cecil demanded, sitting up on his elbows shaking his head. _I truly love this man_ , he thought. Carlos openly stared with admiration at the beautiful sight of Cecil, naked and wanting.

“Oh, listen to you- Mister Bossypants! Since when are you running this show?” quirking into a grin and putting his hand on his hip in defiance.

“Since always. I am taller,” he said haughtily.

“True, but who’s stronger?” Carlos questioned as he moved back to the bed, tossed the bottle on a pillow and climbed up Cecil, so that his cock was at eye-level.

“Guess that answers that question, now suck me.”

 

Cecil willingly obeyed. Grabbing with both hands and his warm mouth, he took in the pulsating cock and sucked as wetly as possible.

“Shit. You’re _amazing,_ ” Carlos grumbled as Cecil gazed up balefully, mouth stretched out, and took him down his throat not gagging even a little. Carlos’ eyes widened at the sight, “Okay, fuck, you better stop, or I’m not going to last much longer.” He regretfully pulled out, and shimmied his entire body back down Cecil and settled in between his pale but heavily tattooed legs.

“Hey you’ve got a bit of blank skin here,” Carlos noted gesturing to the spot where Cecil’s butt met his thigh.

“Uh ,yeah, I need to get over to Josie’s, but... er, here,” he awkwardly handed Carlos the lube.

“Oh right, sorry, easily distracted. Now where was I?” he smiled as he tipped a bit of the liquid into his hands, coating them, and he gave Cecil’s hole a deep lick before sliding a fingertip inside.

“Yes! Oh Carlos, _more_!”

He obliged by going deeper, curving his index finger past the tight ring of muscle and searching for the bundle of nerves that would make Cecil moan obscenely.

“ _Ahhh_ , right there, yesss!” Cecil hissed out as Carlos made little circular patterns with the pad of his finger. He then slid it back out to exchange it for his thumb and began working it back and forth, stretching Cecil out with quick, fluid movements.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, I need you inside me Carlos! Fuck me, _please_.”

“Are you sure? I just…”

  
“Yes, fuck, please Carlos, now!”

He didn’t ask a second time. He withdrew his moistened fingers and ran a slick fist down his shaft a couple of times before rising up on his knees, throwing both Cecil’s legs over his shoulders, fisting at the base of his cock, and sliding into Cecil's wet hole with a shudder of satisfaction.

“Wait, wait...” Cecil moaned, and Carlos paused, not yet fully seated inside him. “Okay, go.” He slowly rolled his hips until his balls were pressed up against Cecil’s ass, and stopped again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, hang on.” Cecil took a few gulps of air. “Feels good, so full. Alright, yes, okay. Now move.”

Carlos didn’t have to be told twice, and canted his hips forward, slowly pressing his cock deeper. Then, when he felt Cecil push back, he let himself rock back and forth moving in small increments.

“Fucking hell, Cecil- you feel _amazing_.” He dropped the still slick hand down to Cecil’s cock, and pumped it in time with his quickening thrusts.

Cecil moaned incoherently, unable to form thoughts, let alone words, as he clutched both knees and pulled them to his chest. His tattoos sparkled a brilliant white, and the light they gave off became so bright Carlos had to snap his eyes shut to focus on the now punishing pace at which his hips were jerking into Cecil.

Faster and faster they moved together, moaning and grinding with bliss. Carlos let go of the thigh he’d been using for leverage and clamped his hand around Cecil’s throat, thumb pushing into the hollow of his straining neck.

“Unf...close Carlos...cl… _ahhhhhhh!_ ” he didn’t finish the warning before a hot spurt of come exploded out of him and onto his own chest.

Carlos felt Cecil tense and tighten, and the shudders he gave pushed him off the cliff as well. “Oh _fuuuuck_ , _yeah_ ” he groaned, as the orgasm wrenched through him and his hips shook erratically.

 

Neither changed position as they let the aftershocks make their way through muscle and bone. Finally, Carlos caught his breath, pulled out his now-soft cock gingerly, and flopped down next to a still-panting Cecil with a contented sigh.

“Well, that was thoroughly enjoyable, exactly what I needed. You are utter perfection.” Carlos tucked his arms behind his head and closed his eyes with a grin as Cecil rolled to lie halfway on top of him.

“Oh no, Carlos. You are the perfect one. Mmmm, I love you.” Cecil purred, wrapping himself further around the now slack scientist.

“Oh that’s just the oxytocin and serotonin talking,” he dismissed lightheartedly.

Cecil frowned into Carlos’ shoulder, “No. I mean it, Carlos. I love you.”

Carlos’ eyes flew open. “Stop that, you don’t. You can’t. Shit.” He dislocated their bodies as he shot up and off the bed, and began gathering up his scattered belongings. “I should go. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Carlooos, I just told you I love you and you’re leaving?” he whined.

“Cecil…” he paused buttoning up his trousers, “I can’t talk about this right now, you’re not in a normal frame of mind. We’ll talk later, okay? I have to go.” He finished haphazardly throwing his clothes on and headed straight for the door.

He stopped just before exiting, turned to face the stunned man still lying stark naked and mussed. “I’m sorry, I’ll text you, okay?” Before Cecil could answer, he was gone.

 

Cecil heard the front door slam, and tires screech away, “Fuck….fuck fuckity fuck,” he repeated to his now empty room. “Well done! You scared him off. This is fucking great.”

His phone trilled loudly from it’s place, still in his pants pocket. He leaped off the bed eagerly, hoping Carlos had changed his mind.

 

* **Incoming Call-Intern Dana** *

 

He groaned, _darn_ , well at least it was his best friend, and not one of those hooded figure robo-calls, he hated those.

 

“Hey Dana, what’s up?”

“Cecil, oh my god Cecil, I need your help! You have to come down here!”

“Slow down, I can barely hear you, what is all that screaming in the background.”

“It’s my friend Zena, you know, the farmer’s daughter? She won’t stop. Cecil, she just keeps wailing and I don’t know why!”

“Okay, where are you? I’m coming.”

“I’m at her house. We were...well it doesn’t matter, just get down here now. I don’t know what to do!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be right there.”

He hung up without a goodbye and speed-dialed Carlos.

It rang and rang and he thought it was going to go to voice mail, but then he picked up.

“Cecil, I’m really not…”

“Stop, Carlos. You’ve gotta come back, I need a ride out to the farm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just come back and pick me up, I’ll explain on the way.”

“Fine, bye.”

“Bye” and ended the call.

He didn’t know what was the matter with Zena, but he was thankful that Carlos would be with him.


	15. Turning Inside Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mystery continues...as does the 'discussion.'

On the drive over, Cecil explained what little he knew to Carlos and swiftly pulled out his cell to call Sophie for backup. Through carefully-constructed sentences (to make sure Carlos didn’t catch wind of his ‘true’ career), he begged for her assistance and discretion. By the time he’d finished with the call, they were rolling down the gravel driveway that led to the front of the house.

The noise of Zena’s wailing assaulted them the moment they stepped out of the sporty coupe. Her wordless screams echoed off the canyon walls and hit their ears with an intensity that neither man was accustomed to hearing.

Carlos was also surprised by row after row of lush fields. What only months ago was black ash was now filled with towering stalks of corn, wheat (the not-currently-banned kind), and flowers in a variety of colors.

 

“This is _amazing_ ,” he marveled as they trudged closer to the house clogged with painful screeching. “I’ve spent so much time at the lab trying to analyze that substance that I haven’t been back here to check in on the Peters family or any of this.” He made a sweeping gesture, still gawking at all of the beautiful plants.

 

“Oh yeah, they started growing just after the meteorite melted.”

“Cecil, why didn’t you tell me this?”

“You didn’t ask. Plus, I didn’t know you cared about farming. Do you want to live on a farm someday, and grow things, have a family and a dog that doesn’t need to be taken to the dog park?”

“What? No. I don’t know. You’re missing the point. It’s just bizarre that they would grow so large so quickly. It takes years for plants to look like this, and it’s only been a few months. Does this typically happen on his farm?”  
“Nope, I’ve never seen any plants here, until now. Aren’t they pretty?”

Carlos ignored the question and its accompanying smile, as they were almost to the door and he could just barely hear a woman begging and pleading.

“Zena, please. Please stop love. Just relax, come on. Stop this, Zena!”

“That’s Dana, oh the poor dear. She’s been in love with Zena for years, totally unrequited, sadly. Still, Dana can’t let her go. Love can make such fools of us, can’t it?”

Carlos didn’t know what to say, so instead he walked into the house. The screaming becoming almost unbearable, Cecil followed him into a simple living room bearing the two women. Everyone but Zena had pressed hands tightly to their ears, though it clearly did little to help, as Dana’s were already leaking blood.

 

“Oh Cecil, thank GOD! Help her, help me- help her!” shouted a small ebony woman, who Carlos correctly assumed to be Dana, her bundle of curls bouncing as she followed an even smaller woman who was drifting around the room in a trance and, of course, yelling uncontrollably.

 

“Uh, alright. ZENA- PLEASE STOP SCREAMING, IT’S VERY LOUD AND IT IS HURTING OUR EARS, OKAAAAY?” he yelled, politely to the distraught woman.

Carlos looked on confusedly, unsure as to how he could be of service in this situation. When a serious looking ginger police officer, plowed into the room. With her fists balled, and mouth open wide, she headed straight towards Zena.

 

No sound was emitted, but everyone could feel a powerful reverberation emanating from her direction, and the screaming immediately ended. Zena stopped her pacing, her eyes rolled back into her head and she crumpled to the floor.

 

“What did you do to her?” Carlos spoke accusingly at Officer Howl.

“I used a low-frequency, sonic blast to render her unconscious, obviously,” she smartly retorted.

“With what? Carlos looked at her for evidence of machinery.

“My voice of course,” she glared up at Cecil, “I thought you said this guy was a genius?”

“Excuse you- I’ve got an IQ of 195, thank you very much,” Carlos announced in an irked tone.

 

“Stop bickering you guys! Get over here and help me!” Dana, demanded from her kneeling position on the floor next to Zena. They all moved at once, each picked up a limb, and dragged the now comatose Zena over to lie on the couch.

Dana bent over to nervously card her fingers through the tiny woman’s bright-blue pixie cut. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we start at the beginning? Tell me everything that happened, Dana,” Howl asked soberly.

 

“Okay, well her parents took her little brother Thad to the arcade, and she invited me over to hang out and eat. Ya know, now that they grow stuff. So, I come over, and like five minutes later she just starts screaming her head off and wandering around the room staring off into space.”

“Has this happened before?” Carlos asked and was met with three puzzled faces.

“No, of course not. Is this kind of thing common where you come from?” Dana argued.

“What? No. I just...I. I don’t know. All manner of unexplained phenomenon happens in this town, how am I supposed to know what’s ‘normal’?”

 

“Hey guys, why don’t you give us some space, go get Dana some water. Alright?” Howl asked the two men gently.

“Sorry, sure. Yeah.” Carlos grabbed Cecil’s elbow and drew him into the adjoining kitchen.

He started opening and slamming cabinet doors looking for glasses, “Cecil, that woman in there needs a doctor, why aren’t the paramedics here? And what was that thing Sophie did?”

“Oh Carlos, don’t fret,” he sighed. “You are so thoughtful. I’m sure the dear epileptic couple who run the Emergency Services helicopter will be here shortly. Besides, Sophie stopped the screaming, that’s all that matters-and now we can talk.

“Talk? Uh, Cecil, maybe now’s not the best time.”

“Well, when would be a good time?”  
“I don’t know, maybe after Zena’s safely in the hospital?”

“Hmm...fine. Alright, give me a second, I’ll find out how far out they are.”

Cecil seated himself on a stool near the butcher-block table, shut his eyes, and raised his arms.

“Err...Cecil, the phone’s over there.”

“Shhh, give me a second.”

Carlos could only stare in stunned silence as Cecil spoke in tones he could not identify. It wasn’t English, he wasn’t sure it was words at all, but it seemed very word-adjacent.

“Cecil?”

“They’ll be here in under five minutes, okay?”

“How can you possibly know that, and what did you just say or do? What was that?”

“Oh, I used my echolocation abilities to see where they were. Is that the first time you’ve seen someone use sonar? I know it’s kinda rare.”

“No, Cecil. That’s not rare, that’s improbable. I’ve NEVER heard of a human using echolocation over a distance, only bats and whales.”

“Really? Oh God, you think I’m a freak now don’t you?!”

His hands flew up to cover his face.

“Not at all, Cecil- I think you’re amazing!”

Carlos set the filled water glass down, and scooped him up in a tight hug.

“I would never think you’re a freak. I’m just surprised is all.”

Cecil nuzzled into him.

“I love you, Carlos.”

“Oh not that again, come on! I thought we went over this?”  
Carlos released him from the embrace and moved back to fill another glass with a heavy sigh. “Not here, and not now. Alright?”

“Sure thing. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just...I should bring them these.” He gestured to the filled glasses, seized one in each hand and headed back to the living room without further discussion.

“Hey, here,” he shoved the glasses in the general direction of both women. “Cecil, says that emergency services is close by.”

 

“Thanks. Uh, we haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Sophie Howl.” She stuck out a hand, and Carlos shook it guardedly.

“Hello. Carlos, new scientist in town, pleasure to make your acquaintance. And I take it you’re Dana, Cecil’s best friend.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. Though I wish it was better circumstances. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her eyes were suddenly drawn to Cecil standing off to his right, making throat cutting gestures. “Uh...I mean, from other people...around town, and stuff, yeah.”

“Oh, well I suppose a newcomer is ripe for town gossip. I’m sure…” he was interrupted by the distinct sound of a helicopter landing in one of the wheat fields.

 

“Oh thank goodness, they’re here! Zena, we’re going to get you to the hospital. Sophie, do you think they’ll let me ride with her?” Dana asked, worry dripping from every syllable.  
“I’m sure they will dear. I’ll go meet them and make sure, alright?”

“Thanks Sophie, really- thank you.”

Howl nodded wordlessly and ran out the front door.

 

“Dana, have you called her family yet?” Carlos asked, realizing he didn’t have any way to get in touch with the Peters other than their landline.

“No, they don’t believe in cell phones. Do you think you guys could head over to the arcade and tell them? I can’t leave her.”  
“Of course, Dana. We’ll go right now,” Cecil frowned and clasped her hand as Sophie and the paramedics came barging into the room.

“They’ve got this. Will you take me, Carlos?”  
“Certainly, let’s go.”


	16. Chaos Defies Imagination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth always comes out...

Carlos and Cecil were barreling out of the Peters' rustic farmhouse, when Cecil sneaked a glance at his wristwatch. It didn’t actually work, as no clock did, but he knew instinctively  that he was late.

“Crap. Uh...Carlos, I, uhh..I can’t go. I need to go to the station instead. I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be reporting really, uh, quite soon.” He cast a worried glance over at the shorter man, while both seat-belted up.

  
“What? Cecil! This is _your_ friend, and _your_ errand. Surely they can have one of the interns fill in for you?

“No, they really can’t. I assure you. It’s necessary that I give the report.”

“OH come on, I think you can postpone broadcasting about The Community Theatre’s latest production of ‘Once Upon A Time,” he said using air quotes.

“Actually, it’s called ‘Once on This Island,’ and I REALLY have to be there. It’s important, okay? Can’t you just trust me?”

“I can’t even believe we are having this discussion. Your best friend NEEDS you and you’re pawning the favor off on me? I was just supposed to be a ride over here, and now I have to tell a man and his family, that their daughter is in some kind of freak-induced coma? Really?!”

“Hey, are you calling Sophie a freak? What she can do is amazing! I suppose you think I’m a freak too. You just didn’t want to say it before.”

“No, I didn’t mean...uggh...No. Listen, I just don’t understand why we are sitting here talking about going to a radio station, when Zena is on a freaking helicopter right now!”

“Oh so, Mr. The-Job-Comes-First is telling me when to put career ahead of everything else? Oh that’s rich. I have to be there, alright? No one else is authorized to give the community report. People depend on me, Carlos. ME!”

 

“Fine. You know what, that’s totally fine. I’ll just drop you off and _I’ll_ go inform the Peters about their daughter and how she’s _unconscious_ , because you have a little radio show to do.” He turned the car on with more force than necessary, and the coupe roared to life.

“Did you just insult my job? Because I’ll have you know that this operation is _critical_ to Night Vale.” He pointed a long finger accusingly at the scientist.

“Critical? How the hell is a Fun Fact Science Corner critical, Cecil? Please tell me. I’m _dyyying_ to know!” His voice positively dripped with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes for emphasis, and steered the car back up the driveway.

“Oh, fuck you Carlos! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. There are officers who would kill to have this position!” Cecil shouted, hands fisted in his white hair.

“Officers? You’re a reporter for chrissake!”

 

“Uh, yeah...um, right,” Cecil pulled his hands into his lap and began kneading them nervously. “Let’s just stop fighting okay?”

“Cecil…” he said warningly and stopped at the curb. “What is really going on? You need to tell me the truth. This isn’t making any sense and I’m not going any further, until you explain.” Carlos stared menacingly into Cecil’s bespectacled face. “Start talking.”

“Okay, okay, the truth is….shit The truth is, I’m an undercover officer for the Secret Police. There. Alright? I work at the station because my of my echolocation gift. The towers amplify it and I’m able to see everything that goes on and report about it without delay. It’s crucial to the citizens' safety.”

“Wait. So, those goons who hound me and keep tabs on everyone? You work for those bastards?”

“We’re not bastards, Carlos. Night Vale is dangerous, and we just want everyone to live long and reasonably sane lives.”  
“I don’t believe this. The same people who tap my phones, bug my apartment, and stop me in the street every fucking ten seconds are your goddamn employers. Un-fucking-believeable.” He threw his hands into the air with exasperation.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you before. I knew that you’d freak out, and lo and behold- I was right. Part of me thought that maybe after getting to know me, you could get past this, but clearly that part was an idiot.”

“Oh, so, now you think I’m an idiot?”

“No, that’s not what I sa….argh! Are you going to take me or not?” Cecil crossed his arms in defiance.

 

Carlos wanted to scream. He wanted to rail at this man for deceiving him. For making him fall in love with a lie, because truth be told he was absolutely besotted with the host, no scratch that- fucking police officer. _Who was he in love with? Was any of it real? Was it all part of the operation? Was he just a foolish pawn?_ Questions nagged at him, adrenaline coursed through his veins, and his mind was a jumbled mess. So, he pulled out into traffic in wordless reply.

 

They didn’t speak for the entire ride to the station. Carlos stared resolutely forward, and Cecil fogged up the glass pressing his forehead to the passenger side window. His thoughts were also in turmoil. Cecil was wondering how he’d messed everything up so spectacularly.

 _This was supposed to be a grand day. I never got to tell him that today was his one year anniversary of arriving in Night Vale_. His mind drifted to thoughts of the cheesy statue that he had made to honor the occasion. He had hoped Carlos would find the sappy gesture endearing, but now he was sure he’d never get to find out.

When Carlos stopped in front of the station, they sat motionless and watched the dust curl around the car. The moment passed and Cecil unbuckled and unfolded himself slowly, willing the scientist to say something, anything, but he did not. So, he gracefully emerged from the vehicle, shut the door and watched the car roll away. He stood there long after the tail lights had faded from view, thinking.

*************

Carlos tore out of the parking lot but slowed when he got to the street. _Cecil probably already told the police to watch out for me._ He felt so betrayed and untethered. He thought about his time in Night Vale, and how he’d come to depend on the radio host for so much. Cecil was the first thing he thought about when he woke up, and the last of his lingering thoughts when he finally succumbed to sleep. _See, you knew something was off! This is precisely why you can’t let yourself fall in love with people. They only disappoint you and tear you apart,_ the little voice in his head told him, and he listened, though he had been getting better at quelling the negative thoughts since talking regularly with his family. Now, he let them take control of him mind, body and soul. _What does it matter? Everything was a lie. I AM an idiot._

 

Carlos parked in front of the giant glowing sign (in which some of the letters were burnt out) that still read: **Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex**. He tried to push the argument and subsequent heartache out of his mind. _I can’t break down right now, I’ve got an important message to deliver. Just wait until you get home. You can make it home and then drown your sorrows into all the bottles and pints you can get your hands on_. He threw back his shoulders, straightened his white lab coat, and stepped into the Arcade tenaciously.

 

He scanned the lanes for the familiar portly shape that was John Peters, and spied him instantly. He was crowded with a large group of other residents around the pin retrieval area of lane five. Carlos jogged over.

“John, John! Hey! I need to speak with you!” He reached the farmer and peered into the abyss that everyone else was staring into.

“Oh, Hi, Doctor! Here to help Teddy Williams, the owner?” He gestured towards the man, who Carlos noticed was changing all the screens to read ‘THEY ARE HERE’

“No, I’m sure he’s fine. It’s..Uh, It’s Zena.” He pulled his gaze back to address John.

“What about her?”

“She...she’s at the hospital. She was airlifted from your house a little while ago, she had...an issue.”

“What kind of issue?”

“Umm...she wouldn’t stop screaming,” Carlos whispered, realizing other people were trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. “I mean, she’s stopped now, she was unconscious when I saw her last, you guys should really get over there.”

“Yes, alright. Thank you. Thanks for telling me. Wait... why are you here telling me?”

“It’s a long story, just go okay?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go tell Jeremy “Happy Birthday,” grab Lettie and Thad, and head out. Thanks again.”

 

Carlos turned to leave, his objective achieved, when suddenly Teddy started howling about gathering a militia and preparing for an attack. “Oh shit. Now what?” Carlos wheeled back to what he thought was just a black hole, and realized what everyone was staring at was an opening with a crude staircase.

“What is Mr. Williams going on about?” he asked the closest person, an average-looking woman with no hair and three eyes that blinked back at him.

“The malevolent residents of the underground city are preparing an attack, but no one wants to fight except Teddy,” She replied in a matter of fact tone that frankly surprised Carlos.

“The what want to what? This town is ridiculous, everyone and everything is just ridiculous. I’m going down there to get to the bottom of this.” Normally, Carlos wouldn’t have rushed into certain danger so decisively, but he was heartbroken and cared little for personal safety, so he hopped easily into the gaping maw and trudged down the stone steps. Unbeknownst to him, this would be an enormous miscalculation.


	17. Lost In Our Vices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning Cecil's side of One Year Later.

About five minutes after staring into the thankfully Glow Cloud-less sky, Cecil realized that Carlos wasn’t going to turn around and confess his undying love for him. _Guess I had better get in there_ , he thought as he dragged himself into the studio, checked in with intern Dylan, crept past Station Management, and flopped down onto the wheeled chair.

He felt as if he weighed ten-thousand pounds. Every movement was taxing. His brain was in a fog, and he was all thumbs adjusting the cables and wires. Somehow, he prepared to broadcast. _I just want to curl up under the console, and weep until I flood the studio_ , he thought morbidly. Still, he managed to methodically go through the motions he knew so well...even if it was a bit clumsily done.

 

 _Why didn’t this evening go like I’d planned in my daydreams?_ He was so sure that Carlos would understand, or at least be a little impressed- He was a Sergeant after all! There were so many people in the force who looked up to him. His gifts (and possibly his lineage) allowed him this influential position, but he worked his tail off to serve his citizens!

 

_Of course, all Carlos could see was that I work for ‘bastards.’ I don’t get it, I thought he was progressive? After all, it was only a week ago that I even got clearance to tell my... partner... friend... lover... whatever, and now look at us. Fighting, and trying to hurt the other one, the whole thing was a total fiasco._

 

He let loose another weighty sigh, _oughta get to work, otherwise there won’t be any point in existing at all_. “Needs of the many...,” he said softly. _Just keep remembering that_ , he found some comfort in the familiar quote. He sat down, and upon touching a specific section of the console, he was immediately able to view all of Night Vale with his bio-sonar. “Okay, Dylan, Echolocation locked on, ready to broadcast,” he relayed to the intern, who was thankfully still alive.

 

Even though many years had passed working like this at the station, it was always difficult to have such an expansive view of the town. He had learned after hundreds of hours of study how to focus in on certain parts like a camera lens, which helped immensely. He could even hear what people were saying, as well as see what they were doing. It was the most invasive talent, but he only used it for business...mostly.

 

He put on his headphones and pressed the button that patched him into Police Dispatch.

“Traffic to Base. Traffic to Base. The Tentacle Here.”

“Base here, copy that Tentacle.”

“Reporting for Community Broadcast, over.”

“Confirmed. Proceed. Keep this line open for two-way communications, over.”

“Copy that, loud and clear.”

He had gone through the exchange so many times, he no longer thought about it, but tonight things were different. Tonight Carlos knew the truth about him, about everything, and he had walked- no sped- away. This was all he had. The job. Being the protector of his beautiful and horrifying city. He sighed yet again, _well at least I’m not with Steve Carlsberg, such a jerk that guy._

 

 _I wonder if Carlos has already told the Peters ..._ ,  he thought wistfully. _I should sweep the Arcade first, just to make sure that he got there alright_. A small flicker of optimism burned deep inside Cecil’s soul. He hoped that Carlos was done with his task and would come back to the station to talk. Maybe he’d still get to give him the engraved trophy after all? He mentally zoomed in and locked on to the inside of the bowling alley portion of the Fun Center, where he was sure John Peters would be discovered.

 

Instead, he found himself staring right into a melee of townspeople huddled around a hole as Carlos JUMPED INTO IT. _Oh no, Carlos, what are you doing? Why are you going down there? You know the underground city and their repugnant citizens infest that place!_ Cecil was rapidly becoming panicky. The next thing he knew, he heard Teddy Williams cry out to everyone, looking down into the void, “Oh yeah? _Oh yeah?_ Say that to my face, big shot!” W _as he talking to Carlos? OH MY GOD, why? Carlos, why would you go down into such a dangerous place? That’s no place for scientists! I have to alert base,_ he decided.

 

“Traffic to base, traffic to base, Tentacle here.”

“Go for Base, Tentacle.”

“You need to send a full tactical team to Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex ASAP. There is a possible 811 in progress, I repeat imminent civilian danger, over.”

“Copy that Tentacle. You are to remain in studio and begin broadcasting immediately, over.”

“C-c-copy that Base, starting broadcast, over and out.” _Shit I’m stuck here, shiiiiite!_

He let go of the walkie-talkie button and hit the ‘On-Air’ one.

 

“A friendly desert community where the sun is still hot, the moon still beautiful, and mysterious lights still pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale,” he purred into the microphone, letting the memorized speech roll off his tongue with false confidence. His attention was fixed entirely on the Fun Complex.

 

He could only watch as Carlos descended into the bowels of the alley. He ached to rush over there himself, but he knew he couldn’t, so he clutched his brass trophy tightly and continued with the report. _Well, I’m just going to have to let the whole town know what's going on,_ he thought. _There was no way in hell they could keep me from doing a running commentary on my beloved's perilous situation. I might never get to hold him again, but I sure as hell am not going to let him get hurt... or worse. Not on my watch. No, I couldn’t bear that._


	18. Paranoia Blooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fleshed out scene from Ep. 20.

Despondent but curious, Carlos found himself on a clifftop surveying a vast, mossy-green meadow that led to a walled fortress. To him, the structure looked like it was straight out of a Tolkien novel. It was exactly how he’d always imagined Minas Morgul to be, dark and foreboding, angles, spires, and glowing eerily in the distance. He let his eyes roam over the lush landscape, shocked wonder replacing the sadness that had so recently possessed him to the core.

 

The sight stunned him so completely because it had been ages since he had laid eyes upon such lovely greenery. _I suppose after living in the middle of a dry desert for an entire year, I’ve become accustomed to finding all that grows to be drab, or totally devoid of color_. So there he stood, studying a verdant landscape in complete awe. Suddenly, a flash in his periphery caused him to sweep his gaze out to the castle, where he spied not just one, but well over a thousand, tiny flickers of light. Then shapes started to form. _Oh my god- the fortress is a city filled with living beings!_

 

“Wow! Guys, hey! Follow me! You gotta follow me down here and check this out. It’s unbelievable!” he shouted up to the crowd. “Really, you people need to see this!” Most of the crowd (except for birthday boy Jeremy) complied politely, and made their way gingerly into the hole. After all, if a scientist thinks it’s safe- it probably is. The citizens gathered around Carlos without getting too close to the cliff’s edge, and soon were marveling at the castle and its surroundings right along with him.

 

In the time it took them all to maneuver into the subterranean area, Carlos’ eyes had fully adjusted to the low light when a subsequent realization hit him like a ton of bricks. _This wasn’t a distant civilization they were leering at, it was a miniature one_! Without a more calculating thought, he walked right to the edge, and to horror of the crowd, leaped off. However, before they could finish their collective gasp, he was standing on the edge of the meadow, staring right back at them. “Behold, this is not an enormous city miles below the earth. It is a very small city about ten feet below the earth, populated by tiny people who have had to spend a year slowly climbing the ten feet to our world! We have nothing to fear” he proclaimed loudly.

 

Carlos was making sweeping gestures to the band of Night Vale residents who gawked at him in disbelief. “Come on, come closer, let’s observe these miniscule specks of existence together, it’s amazing!” Carlos longed for his lab, or at least some of his equipment, but he didn’t dare flee the scene. Instead, he twisted from from the throng of onlookers, to head closer to the mini-city, and something sharp grazed his shoulder. “Ouch, what was…” but before he could finish the question, another stinging pain was slashed across his back. “Gah...what’s...ah...shit!”

 

Another and another small sting ripped his shirt and his flesh. “Ahhh, fuck! What the hell?” he shouted, not daring to look behind him. “Go, go! Get out of here,” he bravely warned the citizens, who he had foolishly led below mere moments before. Witnessing the pain in his face, they required no further cajoling, and shoved their way out of the cavern. Carlos, recognizing that it would be quite a while before everyone escaped, mustered up the courage to turn and face the tiny people only to discover that they were not only much closer than he had previously hypothesized, but they were also sending sparks of light up at him.

 

The reality of the situation finally dawned on him...they were attacking him with explosions and projectiles _, shit_! He had nothing with him, no weapons of any kind, nothing but a lab coat and a stout heart. The only matter between the tiny horde and the denizens of Night Vale was his body, so he used it to shield them as they clambered out in a roughshod and wholly impolite manner.

 

Of course, as soon as Carlos made the decision to stand his ground, his body was struck, and though it didn’t make him cry out, he could feel the warm blood running down his thighs. Something had cut him deeply, and he staggered back, feeling woozy at the sudden injury. Pain finally signaled to his brain and he clutched his side, which was now on fire. He felt his thin cotton shirt soaking up the liquid as he shifted back to watch the last citizen being pulled out of the hole.

 

Carlos tried to run towards them, but his legs would not obey. He lurched in vain at the hands extended down to him as the volleys of unknown weaponry continued. He dropped to his knees, the searing pain unbearable, and his vision was blurring. His body tipped forward, and he collapsed in a heap, face-down on the rocky outcrop.

  
All sensation ebbed from his body as consciousness fled from his mind, but not before flashing on pictures of Cecil- Cecil’s beautiful smile beaming at him with adoration, Cecil holding him, caressing him, Cecil making him laugh, Cecil caring about him. Lastly, he thought, _I never got to tell you... I love you, Cecil,_ and everything went black.


	19. Are We Next In Line?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the end...but getting very close.

Carlos’ eyes fluttered open at the sound of... _cheering_? He wasn’t lucid enough to make sense of the noise, but as his vision swam into clarity, he recognized the many faces of Night Vale citizens standing around his prone body. He moved to right himself, but was hit with a wave of pain and nausea and settled back down onto the hard linoleum floor with a grunt.

“Hey, don’t get up. I’m almost done.” Carlos shifted his gaze to the man hovering over him with gauze and tape. It was Teddy Williams, no longer acting like a deranged madman, but gently tending to his wounds. “I’m a doctor as well, so just settle down for a minute while I finish patching you up.”

Carlos struggled for cognizant thought. _What was going on? Why was he…?_ Then his memory kicked in, and images of the miniature city and its deadly residents formed clearly in his mind.

“The tiny people? Are they still down there? Are we in danger? Is everyone okay?” Carlos’ questions came out in a breathy rush, not pausing for answers until Teddy gave him a stern look.

“The Secret Police came in and took care of it, no worries. And everyone’s fine...well, almost everyone.” Carlos followed his shifting gaze, which landed on a man in a full feather headdress. His body was covered with blood, and unmoving under the arms folded across his chest.

 

“Is he…?” Carlos couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Yeah. He ran in here, shouted with certainty that he’d known this would happen, and that it was ‘his time’. Then he jumped in after you, without hesitation. I don’t know how he knew, or why he was speaking in Russian, but... he’s a hero,” Teddy spoke reverently and the rest of the crowd bowed their heads in silent agreement.

“He...saved me? Oh my god, why? I don’t…” Carlos pushed himself up to a sitting position with a sharp hiss of pain and slid over to kneel beside the corpse. “I didn’t even know his name.”

“No one did. He liked to be called Apache Tracker though, it’s what we’ll carve into his grave cactus.”

 

“Oh, yeah, yeah... right…” Carlos didn’t know what a ‘grave cactus’ was, but he didn’t think this was the time to question their bizarre city practices. He stared down at the man, an almost complete stranger, who had not only saved his life, but given his own in the process. He’d never been more grateful, horrified, and completely out of his depth. All the anguish and fury that had led him down into the cavern had melted away and left only sorrow in its wake.

 

This allowed thoughts of Cecil to shove their way into the foreground of his mind. _Why did I rush off in such a childish fit? I’m an idiot._ Then he remembered that Cecil possessed that wild, sonar ability, _Had he watched this whole event go down? Was he done broadcasting?_ Carlos desperately wanted to see him, to be close to him, and tell him the secrets his heart had revealed before he passed out.

 

Carlos’ contemplation was cut short by a warm hand on his shoulder and a voice to his left.

“Helloooo? Still with us?” It was Teddy again, his face a mask of worry.

“Yeah. I just...I still can’t wrap my mind around all this.” Carlos eyed him behind dark lashes as he gingerly twisted to face him with perplexity. “Do I need to go to a hospital?”  
“Nah. I don’t think so. Your wounds are superficial, just take it easy for a few days and get lots of fluids- you’ll be fine. You should go home and rest now, though.”

“Okay. Is someone coming for him?” Carlos ducked his head back towards the Tracker's lifeless body.

“Mmm hmm, we got it covered. Hey do you need a lift home?” Teddy asked, his hand still forging a connection, keeping Carlos grounded in the moment.

“No, no I’m fine. I can drive. Just help me up.”

Teddy jumped up, extended both hands, and lifted Carlos unto unsteady feet. “Really, I’m okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Carlos couldn’t bring himself to make direct eye contact, and he let go of Teddy’s arms to skate a glance around to the others.

“Sorry everyone...I’m glad you’re alright. Thank you.”

 

A few heads nodded and Carlos rotated to give the Tracker one last look. “Thank you, most of all. I owe you my life, and I won't ever forget this,” he choked out, voice catching in his throat on the last words. He paused to stem the tide of tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “You are a hero.”

He gulped loudly, huffed a breath through his nostrils, and looked up at Teddy. “Take good care of him, okay?”

The man nodded seriously, and Carlos limped off to the front door, afraid that if he stayed any longer he’d be forced to sob in front of everyone.

 

With one hand pressed firmly to his aching side, the other slid his phone out and sent a text to the only person in the world that he wanted right now.

 

**Leaving bwln alley. Can you meet me in the Arby’s pk lot? Please.**

 

Carlos reached his coupe and tossed the phone in through the window without waiting for a buzzing response. He quickly gave his body a once over, eyes bulging at the rusty stains that covered his clothes. He desperately wanted a shower, but he had to see Cecil first. He popped his trunk, sifted around for the spare flannel he kept there, and carefully stripped out of the ruined tee.

 

He buttoned up the wrinkled (but much cleaner) shirt over his heavily bandaged body and got behind the wheel in a slow, deliberate fashion. Every movement sent sharp twinges of pain throughout his body, but he persisted with one goal in mind. _I have to see him_. Carlos brought the car to life, and steered towards the radio station. If he had to wait all night for Cecil to finish, he would. _I need Cecil_ flashed over and over in his brain as he sped off into the night.

***************

 

Cecil practically squealed when he read the text from Carlos, and he told his listeners the gist of what it said. He wasn’t done with his nightly report, _but the weather's coming up, and Arby’s is right next door,_ he rationalized internally.

He tried to make it sound as if he had to go see Carlos for science reasons, though he was sure his supervisor would see right through that ruse. His assumption was correct, and no sooner had he completed the thought, than another text came buzzing through.

 

**You have 3 minutes and 53 seconds. -Howl**

 

Decision now made, Cecil punched the “Weather”button and rushed out of the booth as music echoed through the building.

 

_“You grip your hands around my throat_

_You strip the buttons off my coat_

_I choose the methods I do best_

_Thump, thump, the thumping in your chest”_

 

He burst out of the studio’s back door and skidded to stop only when he saw Carlos sitting atop his car trunk in the middle of the Arby’s parking lot. He was staring wistfully at the sunset in the distance. Cecil was shocked at his appearance; his perfect hair was a mess, as was the rest of him.

 

“What is it?” he asked the clearly battered and bruised scientist. Carlos drew his eyes away from the lights and peered at him, eyes unfocused, without reply. Cecil didn’t know if Carlos was still upset with him for coming clean about his undercover status, or the confession of love, so he thought it best to stick to a neutral topic. He offered up, “What- what danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?”

 

“Nothing.” Carlos responded softly, and stretched out a hand, palm open towards the radio host whose tattoos were shimmering in an array of colors. “After everything that’s happened...I just wanted to see you.”

 

“Oh.” Cecil’s heart fluttered, a wide smile spread across his face, and he let himself be pulled up to sit beside Carlos on the trunk. He wiggled sideways until they were pressed up against one another. He didn’t trust himself to say anything more, so he waited, body taut with tension.

Carlos turned back to face the setting sun and murmured, “I used to think it was setting at the wrong time. But then I realized that time doesn’t work in Night Vale, and that none of the clocks are real. Sometimes things seem so strange, or malevolent, and then you find that underneath, it was something else altogether. Something pure, and innocent.” He turned back to Cecil, “Does that make sense?”

  
“Yeah. I know what you mean.” Cecil understood the emotion behind the words, even if he couldn’t grasp their exact definition. _All was forgiven, he's not going to leave me, he accepts me as I am_. Cecil tipped his head down to rest on Carlos’ shoulder and was rewarded with a gentle hand on his knee. Then he interlaced their fingers together, as they gazed silently into the prismatic twilight.

There would be time for sorting things out later. Right now, they both wanted to be near each other, and drank in the silent companionship. Thoughts swirled in both their minds about the meaning of life, the universe, and most importantly, love.


	20. Radio Active

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long, but I wanted the end to be special. Almost there, only a few chapters left!

After a long, hot shower and a quick nap, Carlos drove himself up to Night Vale General Hospital. He was prepared to fight a nurse for admittance to Zena’s room, but was instead greeted with a large LCD board displaying all the patients and their respective room numbers. He was about to let himself ponder the bizarre logic of this, but then recalled the fact that he was now a resident of Night Vale, and let it go.

 

Carlos scanned the list, saw **Zena Peters, Room 814** , and made his way to the elevators. He’d never been in an elevator that had a trampoline inside it, but decided after almost hitting his head at every floor, that he would take the stairs on the way down. He arrived, laptop in hand, ready to record the changes in Zena’s condition. Unfortunately, there didn’t appear to be any, as he peered into the dark, yet antiseptic room at her sleeping form. The room was an unnatural shade of yellow, filled with an array of beeping machinery and four clearly stressed out adults.

“S-s-so, she’s still asleep, then?” Carlos asked to the lot of them in a nervous voice, barely above a whisper.

Four sets of eyes shifted to the scientist in the doorway.

“Carlos? What are you doing here?” Dana said, getting up and rushing towards him. “Is Cecil with you?” she snooped around him.

“No. It’s just me.”

“Well, can you help her? Look at her! They can’t wake her up! THEY CAN’T WAKE HER UP!” she snapped, getting progressively louder until she was screaming in his face, and Leticia Peters had to grab her by the shoulders to stop the tirade.

 

“Oh now, Dana dear, settle down,” the farmer's wife intoned softly, relaxing her grip as Dana quieted and tears began to spill down her cheeks. Puffy and red-rimmed as her eyes were,  Carlos figured this was not the first time in the past hour. He watched as she wiped at them absently and allowed herself to be led back to her perch on the foot of Zena’s hospital bed. He let his gaze wander over to Farmer Peters and his son Thad, and Carlos noticed that they were positioned awkwardly in a pair of matching metal chairs, fidgeting and shaking with visible nerves.

 

He turned back to Leticia, as she seemed to be the least unruffled of the four.

“What have they tried?”

“Everything. They said they get loads of people in here exposed to sonic blasts, but they always wake up within a couple of hours. She’s been out for at least four times that.”

The comment made the tension in the room rise to a palatable level. Carlos pressed on.“Do the doctors have any clue why she’s not responding to treatment?”

“No, they kept asking us what she took. They think our daughter was on drugs.”

Breaking her veil of tears, Dana spoke up, “Zee would never do that, she didn’t like altered states of consciousness!”

Leticia moved back to embrace Dana. “Shhh, we know darling. We know that, they have to ask.”

Dana’s answer was a little hiccup of sobs. It broke Carlos’ heart to see them all so worried, as it reminded him of when his abuelita passed a few years ago. He remembered why he hated hospitals so much... then again, he doubted anyone relished the thought of being stuck in one.

 

“I’m gonna go talk with them, okay? We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’m going to help, just be…” he was about to say ‘patient’ but caught himself, “just try to stay calm, alright?”

Leticia nodded, and he strode out into the hallway, scanning for the Nurse’s Station. The squeak of his leather shoes on the linoleum echoed throughout the empty hallway. He realized that he hadn’t passed anyone on the way up, consumed with his thoughts as he often was. There was still no sign of anyone, let alone a Nurse’s Station.

 

“Hello?” Carlos called out tentatively, “Hellloooo?” He could see rows upon rows of white doors down either side of the stark, white hallway, but not a single soul answered his call. He moved in the direction away from the (bouncy) elevators, and about a dozen doors down, one of them appeared to be vibrating. It made no scientific sense, as the walls around the seemingly wooden door, were clearly unmoving, and yet the door was obviously shaking rhythmically.

“What on earth?” he murmured to himself, and the door swung widely inward, revealing a clown who shut the door tightly behind him.

Carlos almost fainted at the sight; he hated clowns. “FUCK!” he shouted at the unnerving vision of face paint, red nose, and an eerie unnatural grin.

“Excuse you! There are children in this hospital. Mind your language.” The clown chastised him.

“I’m sorry. I just, uh, I was looking for a nurse or a doctor.” He said, turning his eyes down towards his shoes, not wanting to look the creepy face in the eye.

“Well I’m the head nurse, how can I help you?”

“Oh, um great,” he said meekly, and decided, t _his guy must be dressed up, to cheer up kids, or something else equally plausible_ , and forged ahead with his query. “I need to talk with someone about Zena Peters’ condition. She’s in room 814.”

 

“Alright, I’ll go get her doctor as long as you promise to watch your mouth, young person!”

“Sure. I mean of course. I am sorry, you just... surprised me. I really don’t care much for clowns.”

“Clowns? Are calling me a fool?”  
“No, no! I’m saying your costume, it’s umm...not my favorite.”

“Costume? Sir, are you alright? Are you sure you’re not from floor thirteen?”

“HUH? No. I mean yes, I mean...could I just please speak to her doctor?”

“Fine. I’m growing weary of you anyhow.” The clown with it’s oversized shoes padded past him, and when Carlos looked up from the floor, it had disappeared.

_I really hate how people do that in this town._

Before he could turn back down the hall, the vibrating door opened on its own again, but this time a hooded figure in all black stood where the clown had been only a moment ago.

 _Oh what fucking fresh hell is this_ , Carlos thought to himself.

 

 **You requested my presence?** said the figure, but there was no sound, yet Carlos seemed to have heard him clearly.

**Yes, I’m in your mind.**

_What? I don’t understand what’s going on._

**Ah, I see you are not a native. That explains quite a bit.**

_Wait, I’m not hearing you though my ears. You’re in my head?_

**Yes, I am aware of your questions, and yet have no answers that would satisfy them. Other than that you should investigate her prior actions.**

_I can’t wrap my mind around this. Get out of my head! Just talk to me!_

**I’m afraid I cannot do that. You want to know how to help Zena, yes? Well, there is nothing here that will do so. You need to discover the prior clues. And while I understand that my mere presence is terrifying, I can assure you of that-**

_Terrified? I’m not terrified, I’m annoyed. Stop this, I don’t like sharing this space- My space- my_ mind _with anyone but me!_

**Yes, I can sense that as well. Oh, look at this large section devoted to a certain local radio host!**

_Hey, STOP THAT!_

**As I said, I cannot-**

_Fuck this,_ Carlos thought, and turned away from the maddening mind-invader and ran all the way back to room 814.

 

“Did you find out anything, Carlos?” Dana asked, when he arrived breathless at the door.

“Uh...yeah, I... um. Dana, what were you guys doing before she started having her, umm, screaming issue?”

“We were cooking, well she was eating mostly, I wasn’t hungry….” she trailed off, sharing the revelation with everyone else in the room. “Oh my god, it was the food. She was eating the damn produce from the farm.”

“Oh no!” Mrs. Peters exclaimed. “I hadn’t had a chance to cook any of it yet, I was going to when I got home. She must have wanted to prepare something for us as a surprise. Ohhh, this is all our fault, John! Why did we harvest those glowing plants?” Leticia said rhetorically.

“Glowing, the crops were glowing?” Carlos asked puzzled.

“Yes, after the meteorite melted, all the plants grew huge and lush. We finally harvested them and were going to dig into our new bounty last night in celebration of our good fortune.” She dissolved into tears at the last part of her statement, and Carlos didn’t want to press any further.

 

“No, no, this is good. I can work with this. I’ll head back to your farm, get some samples from the house and take them to my lab. I promise I’ll work on nothing else until she wakes up. You have my word.” Carlos said sternly to the wet eyes staring up at him.

 

Dana turned back to the prone Zena. “Please, Carlos. Help her.”

 

“My word, Dana. You have my word.” He knew if he stayed a moment longer he might break down from the sight, so he gave a curt nod and headed back the way he came in.

_I’m going to figure this out. That poor family... this is what I was born to do. I can feel it in my bones._


	21. Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PWP well there's a bit of plot but more character development with porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You gotta be okay with rope bindings and powerplay. It's a fairly chaste scene, but just want to always be upfront.  
> If you want to see the rope style that I'm describing check out this NSFW page: http://www.restrainedelegance.com/preview/lexicon1/reh_20120117_1247430.jpg

Cecil hadn’t heard a peep from Carlos, in the weeks since his near-death experience at the hands of the tiny people below the Desert Flower Bowling Alley. He had texted and emailed, but both methods of communications were returned with a boilerplate message that read:

**Sorry, I’m thinking. I’ll get back to you when I’ve thought.**

Cecil wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. W _as he thinking about me? Was he thinking about us? Was he thinking about that hole that appears in our walls for no apparent reason whatsoever?_ He couldn’t know, and was too put off by the message to risk calling, so he waited. Cecil felt like a foolish teenage girl, sitting beside her phone waiting for some self-important guy to ring her.

 _This is just stupid_ , he thought harshly. _I am a grown man, a decorated police officer, and successful radio host. There is no reason for my butt to be parked here at home, wondering about some perfect scientist with his perfect hair._

Cecil made up his mind about the subject, gathered a few things in a duffle, and left for the lab. Sitting at the nearest bus stop, he really wished they had a metro, mostly because all Night Vale buses were open-aired, roofless vehicles, but also because it was pouring rain. Sadly for him, the City Council had yet to approve any kind of underground transport, saying something about sandworms. He couldn’t recall exactly what about them, but what he was certain of was that by the time he’d ran the final few blocks to Carlos’ lab door, he was soaked.

“Cecil? What are you doing? Oh my God, you’re drenched, get in here!” Carlos uttered at the dripping sight, before tugging Cecil inside.

“I…I...” Cecil’s teeth were chattering too harshly for him to get out anything else.

“Shhh, it’s all right. I’ve got you.” Carlos pulled the duffle out of his death grip and led the wet, shivering mess over to the petite sofa that he kept in the lab for those nights when he was too tired to make it back to the apartment. “Come on, let’s get you out of these wet clothes before you catch pneumonia. Here, let me help you…geez your skin is like ice! These desert storms just pelt you with freezing rain, don’t they?”

Cecil nodded in reply and began stripping his clothes off awkwardly, dumping the whole lot into a pile at his feet. He sat there nude and shivering as Carlos ran back in with a pile of dry towels and rubbed Cecil vigorously with the soft cotton. When each one became damp, he would drop it into the pile of wet clothes and grab another to continue drying. After thoroughly fluffing his hair, he then took to turning Cecil’s white, tattooed skin a flourishing pink, taking special attention to gently dry all of the sensitive parts with care.

Now that the majority of Cecil was dry, Carlos attended to the details. He delicately ran a dry rag over each finger, and carefully dipped into the hollows between them, then slid off the couch into a kneel, wiped each leg, and every single toe. He looked up at the flushed radio host. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t think I realized, until just now, how much I missed you.” He ran a fresh and warm towel up Cecil’s thigh and carefully along his hardening shaft, then used the rest of the towel to run underneath his balls.

“Carlos,” Cecil murmured gleefully. “Wait, STOP!” Carlos arrested all movement.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you call, or answer a single text or email? How long am I supposed to wait around for you? The last time I saw you, you were almost dead, Carlos! What the hell?”

At the rant, Carlos sat up tall and let his toweled hands fall into his own lap. “Gods, I’m so sorry Cecil. I’ve been consumed with trying to find a solution to Zena’s coma. I…I should’ve answered. I’m really, truly sorry. I know how important she is to your best friend, and well, the scientist in me has difficulty letting go of a problem, especially if I think the solution is close at hand. You’re right though, I need to find a better balance in my life. I want to make room for you, I honestly do.”

“Shit, now I’m the one that feels bad. No, you’re doing a good thing, I’m sorry I got upset. I just missed you is all, and I’m still freezing.”

“Well, in any case, you’re here now, and I’ve some samples brewing in the mass spec, so we have a bit of time...for you know… _warming_ you up,” Carlos said, quirking his eyebrows up at the still nude Cecil.

“You know, Carlos, I’m sitting here butt-naked on your couch- I think we’re pretty much past the tiptoeing-around-the-sex-bit. Plus, I’ve brought you a present... you know there’s quite a few interesting and thoroughly enlightening texts in my library.”

“Books? Did you bring me books? Oh Cecil, that’s so sweet!”

“Go grab my bag.”

Carlos hopped up off the floor, retrieved the small, yet heavy duffle, and zipped it open with a flourish.

“Hey, there’s no books in here…just a bunch of cords…I don’t…ooooh! Soft, red cords, just like I told you about. I can’t believe you remembered!”

Cecil answered with a vicious grin, “Of course I did. I said I’d get to reading about it, and those texts were, as I said…enlightening.”

“So…what would you like to do with these exactly?” Carlos asked pulling a bit of them out.

Cecil stood up, let the towel drop, and said in his most seductive voice, “Carlos, my beautiful scientist- I want you to tie me up and fuck the hell out of me.” He reached over, ran his fingertips up Carlos’ arms, and stepped in closer.

  
“Are…are you sure? I mean is this what _you_ want? You’re not just doing it because it’s something I’m into?”

“Psh! Carlos, I think the world of you darling, but this... this is for me.”

“Well in that case…get on your knees,” Carlos said in his most authoritative voice.

Cecil did as was instructed. “Yes, Sir. Anything you like, Sir. I only want to please you, Sir.” He knelt there shivering, but Carlos couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or the lingering cold. Either way, he knew he would soon be flush with heat.

“Hands behind your back, and remember the safe word?”

Cecil nodded.

“Say it.”

“It’s ‘purple,’ Sir.” Cecil slipped easily into the sub role, bowing his head and averting his eyes.

“Good, that’s very good. Now, shall we begin?”

Cecil nodded more forcefully this time, as if to say ‘please,’ but he knew Carlos didn’t give him permission to speak yet.

Carlos moved over to the duffle and removed all the varying lengths of cord. “Cecil did you get authentic Shibari hemp rope? Wow! I’m impressed, you really _were_ listening when I was talking about my past.”

“Of course I-” Cecil said, before a sharp look from Carlos cut him off. He wasn’t entirely used to keeping quiet.

“Well I suppose I’ll have to punish you for that insolence before we get to the art portion of the evening.”

Cecil drew his eyes toward the floor again, and his cock twitched at the word ‘punish.’ “Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Come here,” Carlos beckoned towards himself and the sofa, and Cecil shuffled awkwardly, remaining on his knees, arms still clasped behind him. “Get up on onto my lap.” Cecil complied willingly and with excitement of the unknown. _I hope he’s going to spank me, please oh please, oh please spank me_ , he thought.

Carlos gingerly bent the taller man over his knees. “Now, this is going to be the last time you speak without being given permission, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Right then. I think two for each cheek is in order.”

Cecil remained stock still, he was sure Carlos could feel his growing erection at being in such a compromised position.

SLAP! Carlos hit him with an open palm and a red mark immediately arose from the pale flesh of Cecil pert buttocks.

SLAP!

A bit harder this time, and now his cheek was cherry red.

“Now for the other side.”

SLAP! SLAP!

Two in quick succession, the feeling made tears spring into Cecil’s eyes, but then a huge smile formed across his face as he felt the pre-come dripping from his cock. The pain was there, but it grounded him into his body, and took him out of his head. _What more could I ask for?_ he thought blissfully.

“Now get up,” Carlos demanded in his most authoritative manner.

Cecil shifted his weight back onto his feet, still clutching his arms around his back, and moved to kneel.

“No, no, stand there. Good. Now up on your toes.”

Cecil stretched up until all his weight was resting on the balls of his feet. It wasn’t a difficult position, but he knew that his body would soon start protesting.

“There, that’s lovely, look at all those leg muscles straining and stretching. Gods you’re a beautiful specimen. Now, first we’ll start with the top half. I’m thiiiiiinking, reverse-prayer pose. Did you read about that one?”

Cecil nodded, “Yes, Sir!” And moved his hands into the prayer position behind his back.

“Oh perfect, just like that. Now don’t come down off your toes while I do this knot work.”

Cecil stayed perfectly still as Carlos wound the soft cords around his body, tying knots at specific points with skill and ease. He seemed to lose himself in the process, but Cecil could feel Carlos periodically checking to make sure he was doing alright. He started to sweat with the strain of standing on the balls of his feet, his calves shaking a bit as it wasn’t something he was used to, but he relished the sensations. He could feel every muscle in his legs. He wished he knew what they were called, but before he could think anything else, Carlos announced, “There. Perfection.”

He stepped back to admire his work. The rope wound itself around Cecil’s neck, biceps, and intricately wrapped around his wrists, forearms, hands, and fingers in the reverse-prayer position. The effect was stunning against his pale tattooed skin. The tattoos were shimmering with an array of bright colors.

“I’m guessing from the light you’re emitting, and the hardening of your dick, that you are enjoying this as much as I am.”

He wanted so badly to tell him how safe he felt underneath those warm hands, expertly twirling the cord around him. He felt honored to be part of this, he felt worshiped, he felt joy and exultation, but he keep it all inside and only said “Yes, Sir.”

“Good, now on your knees so I can finish.”

Without another word, Carlos dropped hard onto the wooden floor. He ground his teeth to absorb the pain and tottered a bit without the use of his hands, but Carlos steadied him.

“There now, let me get your legs.” He grabbed more cord, and this time tied his quads to his calves by way of his toes. This way, Cecil would not be able to stretch out his legs again.

Cecil silently thanked Carlos for letting him stretch out before, and reveled in the feeling of the cords knitting his limbs together.

“Done. Oh wow, look at you. Oh I wish you could see how perfect you look.” He stood back to admire his knot work. You couldn’t see much from the front, but the back was an array of perfection. “Cecil, you are gorgeous, I can’t…I just don’t have words for how much I appreciate you doing this for me. It’s such a turn on. Thank you. A million ‘thank you’s.”

 

Cecil really appreciated the speech, he did, but he also wished that Carlos would do him already. He decided to speak up.

“Sir, are you going to stare at me, or are you going to fuck me?”

Carlos looked faux-appalled, “Well, well, well. I think our bossy bottom is looking for a bit more punishment, eh? That can be arranged.”

Carlos picked up Cecil by the ropes and squashed his face down into the hard floor, with his butt up in the air. “I think this time calls for double.”

Cecil hoped Carlos couldn’t see his grin, and grunted in approval.

 

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! Carlos let his hand fly against one cheek.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! He copied his motions onto the other, and then began massaging them both. “Doing alright, darling?”

“Yes, Sir. I was bad. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Oh, you are more than welcome.” He ghosted a hand across the reddening marks slowly forming.

Carlos knelt down to more easily massage, then reached back into the nearby duffle for the lube he saw earlier. He dripped a large portion into his palm and began coating Cecil’s ass. He ran his finger down into the cleft of his buttocks and rubbed against the pucker of his hole. Cecil tried to spread his legs apart, but the cord held him into his position tightly, and though the ropes didn’t hurt, they were resolute in their encasement of his limbs.

Carlos found his finger slipped in easily, as did a second as he eased them in and out, searching for the bundle of nerves that was Cecil’s prostate. When he found it, he was rewarded with a low guttural moan, and Cecil’s whole body twitched. He slid in a few more times before he could restrain himself no further.

He quickly shucked off his evening lab coat along with the rest of his clothes, ran a freshly lubed hand over his own large cock, and pressed the tip against Cecil’s entrance.

 

“Are you ready for this?”

“Please, Sir. Please fuck me now.”

“As you wish.”

Carlos pushed the tip inside slowly until about half of him was inside. “You alright?”

Cecil gave a terse, “Keep going.”

And Carlos complied until he was completely seated, balls pressed up against Cecil.

Cecil’s body began to ache from the position, his knees and chin taking most of the weight of his body, but he took a deep breath and let his mind relax every muscle. Carlos stayed still and waited patiently.

“Okay, now please…Sir!”

At the ‘Sir’ Carlos began pumping slowly back out, and then in again. He had both hands on Cecil’s thighs pinning him in place, as if the ropes weren’t constricting enough. He looked down at his work, the red stripes and knots that decorated his lover, and he felt his erection grow even harder and quickened his pace.

Carlos’ thrusts were not gentle this time, they were needy and powerful. He knew that he couldn’t keep this up for much longer, as the tying up portion had really done a number on him. He reached a hand around and grasped Cecil’s thick member. It was slick with pre-come and slid easily in his grip. He instinctively knew that he was close to orgasm as well, and decided that he would like it for Cecil to come first.

 

He bent over Cecil, crushing his hands a bit in the process, and nipped at his ear. “I think it’s time for you to come for me.” And ran his thumb over the sensitive head of Cecil’s prick, which caused spurts of white fluid to burst forth on his own chest and the floor.

“Yes, just like that, perfect. You’re perfect love, oh yes, just for me.” Carlos said, while continuing to glide his fist back and forth over Cecil’s cock.

Cecil felt his entire body shudder with pleasure, the hardness inside him, the grip around him, and the low whisper near him. It all conspired to overwhelm his senses, and it took him a while to come back into his mind. He let himself get lost in his body, and the feeling was spectacular.

Carlos felt the jolts of Cecil’s orgasm pulse around his own cock, and the pressure sent him quickly along the same path. He pulled out, fast enough to make Cecil groan, and then proceeded to spill his seed all over his tied up back and hands. He strained to keep his eyes open; he wanted to watch his fluid spread along the ropes and Cecil's skin, and was not disappointed by the sight. It was poetry in motion, and he came harder than ever.

 

Finally, when he was completely spent, he flopped down on his side, pulling Cecil along with him. They collapsed in an ungraceful heap.

“That was…that wa-…was… amazing Cecil. You are fucking brilliant. I just, phew. Damn.” He huffed out trying to catch his breath.

Cecil laughed. “Yes, I’m terribly amazing, aren’t I?”

Carlos chuckled, “Yes, you really are. Now, let me undo all of this so you can relax. Are you sufficiently warmed up now?”

“Absolutely. Thank you love. I mean.” He quickly corrected, “Thank you Carlos.”

“Uh yeah, here, this is going to take a minute, hang on alright.” Side-stepping the sentiment entirely, and working furiously to untie all the many knots he’d carefully strung together.

 

When he was finished, he gingerly picked up Cecil, carried him over to the sofa, and laid him down gently.

“Are you alright, do you need anything for the rope burn? How are you feeling?” Carlos asked with genuine concern.

“I feel wonderful, really I do. Please, come lay with me. Can we just lie here for a bit?”

“Yea, scooch over.”

 

They jostled a bit for position, finally ending with Cecil mostly on top of Carlos, fully ensconced in his arms. He nestled into the scientist’s shoulder and felt every bit of stress ebb from his body completely.

“This is perfect.” Cecil murmured.

“It is, but only because I’m with you.” Carlos replied, and hummed appreciatively.

The two fell asleep quickly, and didn’t wake for hours, well… until the mass spectrometer started beeping that is.


	22. A subtle glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Thanks for those patient souls, who waited for this. :)

“Cecil! Cecil! I did it, wake up Cecil!” Carlos animatedly shook the radio host.

“Mmmm,” he replied, before pulling a blanket over his head.

“Cecil, come on, we have to get down to the hospital now, and I want you to come with me. Please,” he pleaded to the blanket that covered _his...his...his love._

“Wait! Did you say hospital? Oh shit, sorry, gimme five minutes to throw some clothes on. So- you have a cure for Zena?” Cecil shimmied off the bed, and into some clothes he had stored in Carlos’ dresser.

“Yes, at least I’m fairly certain that I do. I developed an anti-toxin from the glowing plants at the farm. We need to get over there so I can administer it. Are you ready yet?” Carlos rushed out of the room to gather his supplies.

“Ready!” Cecil called after him, as he slipped on a pair of sneakers without socks.

 

The trip seemed much longer than the ride home had been, though it was probably due to the relentless silence between the two of them. Carlos didn’t know how to begin the conversation.

_It’s all so much simpler when we’re having sex. Out here in the daylight, I don’t know what to say to him. Do I really want to be in a relationship with someone who's lied to me from day one? Granted, he was sworn to secrecy, and he told me as soon as he could. But, I still cannot stop being bothered by the deception. I love Cecil, my radio-host, my book fanatic, my sweet companion, my best friend. I just need to add undercover operative to that list. He’s still just Cecil. That hasn’t changed...right?_

 

“Oh good, we’re almost there,” Carlos said as they pulled into the parking lot.

The two of them raced inside, and once in the elevator, Carlos turned to Cecil.

“When we’re done here, and Zena’s better- we need to talk, alright?”

Cecil pushed up his glasses and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah sure thing,” he mumbled as they arrived at the eighth floor and made their way to Zena’s room.

 

Dana leaped at them, the moment they entered the room. “Did you figure it out Carlos, didya?”

“Yeah, I think I did.” He looked around for the family members, but found none. “She just needs this injection. We should still be in the time frame of effectiveness.”

“Are you sure? It’s not going to make it worse, is it? How can you be sure, Carlos? Should we wait until her parents come back from breakfast?” she asked worriedly.

“Listen, Dana. There is no time. This is what I do, and I’ve tested it- it’s safe, and she’s going to be better, but I have to give this to her now.”

“Okay, since you’re with Cecil, I’m going to trust you.”

“Thank you, now hand me that antiseptic pad, I’m going to do this now.”

Carlos made quick work of the injection and disposed of the needle as soon as he was done with it. “Alright. She should wake up shortly, if my calculations are correct.”

The three of them stood still, surrounding the bed, staring at Zena’s prone form.

“Soooo, how long is shortly?” Cecil asked.

 

Carlos furrowed his brows, “I don’t know exactly, maybe we better give it a minute.” He sat down in one of the nearby chairs. Cecil perched on the arm of it, and Dana moved back to her spot on the bed.

They waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Then the farmers walked in.

 

“Hey what are you guys doing here? Did you have some news for us?” Mr. Peters’ asked pointedly at Carlos.

“Yes, I believe I’ve come up with a solution to her problem, and I don’t want you to be upset, but I’ve given her an injection.”

“You did what!” Mrs. Peters’ screeched. “Who authorized you to do that?”

“Folks, the serum was time-sensitive and I didn’t have forever to sit around arguing about it. I don’t think I can even make another batch of this stuff, it almost ruined my equipment.”

“But you can’t just go around and shoot people full of unknown substances,” she countered.

“Trust me, I know, but it will work, just be patient.”

 

Then, as if Carlos had planned it, they heard a shallow cough from the bed.

“Zena!” they said, mostly simultaneously.

They watched as she roused herself to consciousness, snuffling and flicking her eyes open bit by bit.

“Hmmm….what happened? Where am I?” she croaked.

“Oh Zena, my darling girl, oh sweet love you’re awake, oh thank heavens!” her father fawned over her. Dana and Lettie weren’t far behind in cooing at her, and Carlos stepped out of the room to give the family some time to reconnect.

 

Cecil was not far behind, and followed him into the small waiting room. Thankfully they were alone, so Carlos spoke up.

“So, you’re really one of the secret police, eh?”

“Now? Carlos you wanna have this talk now? How many times can I apologize? I wanted to tell you from the start, but I couldn’t, okay? I am still really sorry!” Cecil finished in a much higher pitch than he started.

“I know. I know, and I forgive you, it’s just going to take some time for me to process the lies, okay? How do I know anything about you? How do I know what’s real, and what was part of your cover? Tell me how to reconcile the sweet, and gentle man that I love with horrid, controlling, evil secret pol…” he trailed off as he gazed into Cecil's face. “What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

“You just said you loved me.” Cecil ran a hand nervously through his partially shaved head. “You...you’ve never said that before.”

 

Carlos stepped closer, invading Cecil's space, “I do love you. I love you more than anything I’ve ever known. You are my favorite person on this whole damn planet, and I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you and your huge heart. I want to be there for you, everyday. Always.” His hands were balled at his sides, and veins were popping out.

 

“Carlos. Dear, sweet Carlos, you know that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you, but it only grows deeper. I want you to know everything about me. Every inch of me; mind, body, and soul. And I want the same from you. Can you do that? Can we do that?”

 

Carlos didn’t answer, he just looked deep into Cecil's eyes, and seeing only pure intentions, he relaxed and said, “I love you Cecil...yes I can do that. I will do that.” Feeling like their words needed to be sealed by something, he leaned forward and into a deep kiss. They clutched at each other like they might disappear, and only broke when they heard a tapping on the glass door.

“What? Oh, Dana.” Cecil motioned for her to come in.

“Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just that Zena wants to talk to you.”

“Yeah, sure. Right behind you.”

 

Dana led them back into the room, and the mood was visibly improved.

“Hey Zena, how ya doing? Did the docs come in yet?”

“She just left. She said Zena was going to be fine. Didn’t she, darling?” Dana answered before turning back to the bed.

“Excellent, that’s wonderful!” Cecil exclaimed, while a buzzing went off in his pocket. “Ooh, that’s me. BRB,” he said before stepping out into the hallway.

“Well...Zena, I’m glad you're doing better,” Carlos said, moving closer to the bed.

“T-t-thank you Carlos. You saved my life. I’ll never forget that,” she whispered.

“Oh, Chiquita, don’t give it a second thought. I was happy to help, and I’m just thankful that you’re going to be alright. Let them take care of you. Asking for help is a strong thing to do.”

“Yes, of course. I can’t thank you enough.”  
“You’re so welcome.”

 

He stepped over to her parents, and Dana took his spot.

“I don’t think you guys can go home. We’re probably going to have to close off the whole area. None of it is safe. I’m so sorry. You’ll have to move and leave everything behind.”

“I understand.” Lettie looked at him. “It’s fine, really. We’re just happy that our child is alright. We can go stay with my family until we find a place.”

“Oh that’s wonderful. I’m only sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“No. You’ve done enough. Why don’t you boys go home? You look pretty wrecked, Carlos.”

He straightened his non-crooked glasses, and moved towards the door. “Yes, we should all get some rest. Best of luck to you.”

 

Stepping out into the hall, he caught the tail end of Cecil’s call and gestured to the hospital exit.

“Okay, well...uh...that ship has sailed. Yes, really. Well, too bad. Goodbye.” He then turned to Carlos and gave him a dazzling smile. “Are we leaving?’

 

“Yep.” Carlos led them towards the exit. “Do I wanna know what that phone call was all about? Can I?” Carlos asked skeptically.

“Actually, you might. It was for a job offer.”

“Someone trying to steal you away from the police?”

Cecil laughed, “Just the opposite. They want you to come work for us.”

The two of them stepped out into the parking lot, and Carlos stopped them.

“What? The Sheriff’s Secret Police wants to hire me?”

“Yeah, that way when your grant is up, you can stay here.”

Carlos reached out to swoop Cecil in a tight embrace.

“No more lies, no more secrets... I can do science, you can do radio, and we can do it here- together, in Night Vale?”

“Yes, Oh Carlos, please say you’ll say yes.”

Carlos canted his head and swooped in and captured Cecil’s lips. He wrapped his hands around Cecil's buzzed head, and poured all of his love into their kiss.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to mouth the words ‘yes’ over and over into his lips, and he meant every bit of it. He would love him, always.

 


End file.
